Against All Odds
by Bookworm06
Summary: Julia has left Collinwood. Will an unexpected meeting with someone from her past, prevent a reconciliation with Barnabas? Set at the end of the series.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Julia stared around her apartment, still not quite believing that she was actually there. All around her were signs of unpacking, yet to be finished. She sighed deeply, and then fell rather than sat, onto the sofa.

Kicking off her shoes, she wiggled her toes, relishing the feeling of release. She took in the bulging boxes, and half-hearted attempts at unpacking, and with another sigh, deeper than the last one, leaned her head back, wearily against the sofa. She'd done it...she actually left Collinwood...Collinsport...and Barnabas...behind her.

The thought of Barnabas, brought a lurch to her heart, and feeling her bottom lip tremble, rose quickly to her feet, and began finishing tidying up. Right now, Barnabas was the last person she wanted on her mind. For awhile, her ministrations worked, until her glance fell on the telephone, and she caught herself reaching out, already half way through dialling the number for Collinwood, and quickly put the handset down. Realising that Barnabas had still been in her thoughts all along.

Giving up on unpacking, she grabbed a pile of papers and folders, and clearing a work space, headed into the kitchen, making herself a light snack, and a herbal tea, before heading back to her paperwork. She hadn't realised just how much work returning to Wyndcliffe, had caused. She quickly realised that she would need a hand in running the place, as well as helping out with paperwork, if she planned to stay. Which of course she was; let Barnabas Collins fend for himself...again the thought of him, brought a lump to her throat, and a much deeper pain to her heart. This time she wasn't quite able to stop the tears that fell slowly down her cheeks. Finally she gave up the struggle, and give way to her tears, and heartbreak.

When they had returned from 1840, they had soon discovered that everything had returned to normal - or what passed as normal - at Collinwood. Julia had been bolstered that Barnabas' good health had continued into their own time. And hoped for a more - relaxing - period at the Great House, if that were even possible.

However, she was soon to realise that it wasn't going to be that easy. But then, when was anything involving Barnabas, "easy"?

It hadn't take Julia long, to realise that Barnabas was still stuck firmly in 1840, along with the memory of his "beloved" Angelique. She had hoped that once they returned to their own time, that he would move forward, and finally put his past behind him. She should have known when he had intended to stay in 1840 and not return with her, or Stokes, of what the future held.

He mourned her, growing more and more depressed at each passing day. Willie grew alarmed, at Barnabas' obvious grief, calling on Julia several times, to try and do something. She had tried, Willie had tried, and even Eliot had tried; nothing worked.

She had endured him mourn Angelique's memory for eight weeks, until, as an act of desperation and alarm had snapped at him, that Angelique had now been dead for a hundred and thirty one years, and she was better off that way.

He had risen to his feet, a look of disbelief, and outrage on his face.

"She was my wife!" he'd retorted, as though all the heartache and death she 'd been responsible for, had never happened. An argument had ensued, both too stubborn to back down, or admit who was right and who was wrong.

It had ended, with her walking out of the Old House, and heading back to Collinwood. She had packed her things, before she knew she had already made her decision. If he was unwilling to help himself, then she wasn't going help him, either.

She had quietly informed Elizabeth, of her plans. Elizabeth had been understandably shocked, and saddened at the prospect of her leaving, and had asked her to reconsider. But didn't push the matter, when Julia had declined, and she'd been grateful. She'd looked puzzled, at her request not to let Barnabas know that she had left, nor of where she was going. They exchanged farewells, along with tears, and hugs, and best wishes for the future. Elizabeth's parting words were to inform her friend, that she would be welcome anytime she wished to return.

She'd paused, by the Old House, wondering if she were doing the right thing.

Remembering their argument, and their final words, she fought back the tears that prickled her eyes, and lifting her head determinedly, put the car into drive, and left the rambling Collins Estate behind her.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Her first proper full day at Wyndcliffe, gave Julia no time to brood over Barnabas. As she had expected from the workload of the previous day, returning to Wyndcliffe was turning out to be a job and a half. Along with reacquainting herself with the patients, there was also the administrative side of things to catch up on.

By the time she had any time to herself, it was close to 1 AM, and she sank down into the comfortable sofa, with a sigh. Closing her eyes, she leaned her head back, taking a moment to just relax. She opened her eyes, slowly, as the silence of the apartment, became noticeable. For the first time, that she was aware of, her thoughts turned to Collinsport, and Barnabas.

She rose to her feet, and crossed to the window, peering out into the darkness, in the direction of Collinsport. What would he be doing now, she wondered? Her heart skipped at the thought of him, she turned away from the window abruptly. Had he even realised that she had left? Would he even care? The thought made her pause, and again, her glance fell on the telephone. Had she done the right thing? Her head told her she had, but her heart was telling the opposite. She knew it would be hard, and that she had to take each day as it came, but, perhaps, if she called...to hear his voice...

With an effort, she turned away from the phone, telling herself that she was strong; she was stronger than this. If Barnabas hadn't noticed her absence yet, then he soon would. And then it was up to him.

Going to her writing desk, in an effort to get her mind off Barnabas, she began working on the advert for an administration assistant.

Willie walked into the living room of the Old House. Barnabas was sat in his customary place by the fire, head bowed, staring into the fire. He didn't look up when his friend entered the room.

Willie walked about the room, with an agitated air. His way of trying to hide his anger, and not really succeeding. After deliberately snapping a book shut, and replacing it unceremoniously into the bookcase, did Barnabas finally lift himself out of his reverie.

"Something is bothering you, Willie," he stated, turning his gaze back to the fire. "What is it?"

Willie nodded hands on hips. "Yeah, somethin's botherin' me," he said, his lips curling slightly. "I was wonderin'' why I bother, with an insensitive jerk, like you."

Barnabas turned, and then rose to his feet. "I beg your pardon," he asked dangerously, his dark eyes, burning with fury.

"You can beg, but I don't think I'm willin' to give it," said Willie, facing Barnabas, squarely. He gave the appearance or calm, but inside he was shaking like a leaf. He'd never spoken to Barnabas like this before, and he doubted if he'd ever have the courage to do so again. But what he'd done to Julia... Thoughts of her fuelled his anger, and he clenched his fists. "Not after what you've done," he added, his chin setting firmly.

"May I remind you, of who you're talking to," fumed Barnabas, moving closer to the younger man, using his height to intimidate him. But Willie wasn't backing down. "And what's this nonsense of my having done something?" Barnabas went on.

"It ain't nonsense, Barnabas!" said Willie shaking his head, determinedly. "And if you carry on, like this, it won't be just Julia, you'll drive from Collinwood!"

Julia sighed, and rubbed her aching neck. She hadn't realised that interviewing could such exhausting work. She'd held interviews for the past three days, and none of the applicants she'd seen so far, measured up. She made a few notes on the last candidate, before, calling through to reception and the next candidate.

Returning her attention to the resume of her next applicant, she inadvertently sent the pile of resumes sliding to the floor. Muttering under her breath, she bent to retrieve them, as a knock announced the new arrival, and she bid them enter, not seeing whom it was.

When she finally returned her attention to her visitor, she first registered shock, and then surprise. "Philip!"


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Barnabas stared at his friend, in disbelief. Julia...gone! Surely, Willie was mistaken? "Explain!" he demanded.

"It's pretty simple, Barnabas," sneered Willie, angrily. "She's left. You've finally driven her away."

"You're lying!" challenged Barnabas, grabbing him by the sweater.

"No," said Willie, shaking his head. "I went to Collinwood, to talk to her, and Mrs. Stoddard said she left, three days ago. If you'd stop thinkin' of yourself, you'd have noticed that she ain't been around, and now you know why!"

Barnabas stared at him, his dark eyes, searching his face. He released as, seeing the truth, in the blue eyes. He walked over to the fireplace, and asked quietly, "Why did she leave?"

Willie, snorted, "Do you really need to ask? She's finally given up on ya. And the way you've been acting over Angelique..." His tone changed, became more questioning. "How can you love someone like her Barnabas? And then treat Julia the way you do, when she stood by you..."

"You've said enough," said Barnabas, facing him again, his voice edge with his returning anger. "I do not have to discuss my reasons with you."

"No," Willie agreed. "I ain't the one you should explain anything to. And if I were you, I'd explain to her, before you really do lose her," he turned to leave the room. He paused by the pillars, and looked over his shoulder. "For good," he added, before disappearing down the hall.

Julia rose from her chair, and hurried around her desk. "I can't believe it!" she said in amazement. "How long has it been?"

Philip smiled down at her, as he took both her hands in his. "Much too long, Julia," he said.

Philip Montgomery had been one of her staunchest friends, during medical school. They had always been a connection between them. Whenever, the other male students got to her, for her choice of career, he was the first one to defend her. And when, for a time, she had doubted herself, that she could not over the prejudice of her male peers, he had been the one to convince her, to push her, and make her believe in herself. And when she had graduated ahead of him, he had been the first to congratulate her.

Graduation had been the one thing to finally separate them, as she decided to go into research and he into General Practice. The last she heard, he'd taken a position overseas.

"What are you doing here?" she asked leading him over the chair opposite her desk.

"Well, your advertisement..." he began, but her glance made him pause and chuckle. "That surprises you. Well, I don't blame you."

"I remember that tone, Philip," Julia said, with a smile. "But before we continue, can I get you a drink?"

"Coffee would be fine."

Elizabeth was seated at the writing desk, reading correspondence, when she heard the great front doors open, and the hurried footsteps heading in her direction. She turned enquiringly towards the drawing room doors, and found Barnabas, looking more agitated than she had seen him in recent weeks. He'd lost some weight in recent weeks, and there was an air about him, she didn't recall noticing about him before. She had tried to broach the subject of what was troubling him, but he seemed reluctant to talk about it, and so, respectfully, had not touched on the subject again. Now she wondered if that had been wide. The thought of what Julia might do crossed her mind, and not for the first time, wondered what had happened between them.

"Barnabas, we rarely see you," she gently admonished him. "I was beginning to think that we had perhaps done something, to offend you."

"Forgive me, Elizabeth. You are not at fault. And it is something I mean to rectify. However, I must talk to Julia. Is she here?" he enquired, carefully.

Elizabeth's face clouded, and she rose slowly to her feet. She moved slowly towards the mantle, her hands clasped in front of her, weighting her words carefully. "I'm sorry to have to you this, Barnabas. But Julia left Collinwood, three days ago."

Barnabas' brow creased. For a moment the world rushed at him, and then rushed just as quickly out of focus. From what seemed a great distance, he heard Elizabeth, worriedly asking if he were all right.

He recovered his composure, enough to ask, "D-did she say where she was going?"

She looked down at her clasped hands, taking a moment, before returning his glance. "I'm afraid she asked me not to tell of her whereabouts." At the injured look he gave her, she quickly went on, "You and she have always been close, but in recent weeks, I, along with everyone else, had noticed that you both seemed...unhappy. I don't know what happened, between you two, and I don't want to know. But when she asked me not to inform you, I was surprised, but felt I had to respect her wishes."

"Please, Elizabeth," he begged. "I must talk to her. It's important."

"I'm sorry, Barnabas," said Liz firmly. "I can not nor will not, break my word to Julia."

"...so, when I saw you were needing an assistant, I couldn't resist coming." He smiled at her, his brown eyes holding a merry gleam. "So, enough about me. What about you, what have you been doing with yourself all these years?"

"Oh, the usual," said Julia dismissively. "It's taken a lot of hard to work, as you well know to get to where I am. Wyndcliffe keeps me busy."

"Oh surely there's more than that?" Philip teased. "Surely an attractive woman like you, as a husband hidden away somewhere?" His face fell, as he saw her expression change, and knew instantly that he had something wrong.

She rose quickly from her chair, crossing over to the window.

He followed her. "Please forgive me," he begged, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I'm truly sorry. I didn't know. I have a nasty habit of putting my foot in it." He frowned; as he felt her shoulders, shake gently under his hand. "Julia?" he enquired gently, turning her to face him alarmed at the expression of such heartbreak on her face. He embraced her, as she suddenly, uncontrollably allowed the dam to break, and sobbed, heart brokenly against his chest.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N **_Many thanks to Monkees for the reviews, it is really appreciated. _

Chapter 4

He held her tightly to him, his arms encircling her, offering assurance and comfort. He tried to think of a time when he had ever seen Julia Hoffman break down, and couldn't recall the memory.

Slowly, her heart wrenching sobs eased to sniffles, and eventually to hic-coughs. He chose that moment to gently lift her chin, with his thumb, until he could look into her eyes. His brown depths showed genuine concern for her, as he said, "You can tell me it's none of my business, but you must have loved this man, very very deeply."

She cast her eyes downward, embarrassed that he had seen her at her most vulnerable. Even Barnabas had not seen her, or at least not often, reduced to a bubbling wreck. She sighed, a teary sound, as thoughts of Barnabas threatened to overwhelm her again. Finally she nodded, in agreement. "I did," she said after another moment of contemplation. "And in many ways, I still do."

She moved out of his embrace, his stuffed his hands into his trouser pockets, not liking the sudden empty feeling, now she was no longer in his arms. He silently admitted to himself that it had felt good to hold her in his arms, he tried to push the thought away; now was not the time, to think of a dream fulfilled, while she was still so obviously upset. And, obviously still in love with this nameless man.

He followed her a step, but made no further attempt to touch her. "Julia, it's never easy, letting a loved one go..."

She laughed, bitterly. Then shook her head. "I'm sorry," she said returning to her desk. "But we were never married, and..." she faltered, wondering how much to explain to Philip. Even now, she was still prepared to protect Barnabas. "It was...complicated..." she said, changing her mind.

He closed the distance between them, placing his hands gently on her upper arms. Gently, almost tenderly, he wiped away the traces of her tears that still lingered. "I'm a good listener, if you ever want to talk, Julia. I'll be here, as a friend, if you need me."

She grasped his hand that still lingered on her cheek. "Thank you, Philip. I appreciate your offer of help. A friend is what I need. But...it's too soon..."

"I understand. But permit me to say, whoever this man is, he must be blind, not see what a treasure he had, in you."

After three weeks, Julia felt that she was finally getting to grips with

Wyndcliffe. Keeping busy, she thought was the best thing for a broken heart. And Barnabas Collins had broken her heart more than once. It was a wonder she had any heart left to love him with. When she had told Philip that she still loved Barnabas, it had been the truth, and in the moments she thought about him, she knew that she would continue to love him for a long time to come. Perhaps this separation between them, was just what was needed; give them both time to put things in perspective.

None of this could have been possible, without Philip. A ghost of smile touched her lips, as the thought of him, cross her mind. She felt she had made the right decision, in hiring him. And so far, he had excelled her exceptions. True to his word, he had not mentioned the incident, in her office, the day of an interview. On reflection, she now felt it had been more of two old friends, catching up on old times, that an interview.

Over the past weeks, she had discovered that he also, hadn't married. He'd been vague, as to the circumstances, and felt that she shouldn't push. He had respected her privacy and she felt that she could offer him, nothing less.

She looked up from her notes, and smiled a warm greeting as Philip entered.

He returned her smile, and she thought it made him look slightly boyish. He was well over six feet, with greying curly hair, and a grin that could melt any woman's heart, that stripped the away the years; he hadn't changed…she caught herself in her musings, and quickly returned her attention to her notes.

Philip came over to her, two coffee mugs in hand. "I have a problem," he said, suddenly becoming serious.

Julia quickly turned her attention back to him. "Nothing too serious I trust?" she said, taking the offered mug. "Is it one of the patients?"

He sighed and looked down into his mug. "No, the patients are fine. No, this is to do with something else. You see...there's someone very close to me, who I know is going through a bit of a rough time of it, and I'd like to help, but...I just don't know how." He took a deep breath and looked levelly at her. "I'd like to take you for dinner, if you'll let me," he said in rush.

Julia's eyes slowly widened. "Philip..." she began, but he silenced her with a hand.

"I promise you, Julia, there's no strings, if that's what you're concerned about. It's just two old friends, going out for dinner. Whoever this guy is, has treated you rather shabbily, and I...well I just want to do something, to cheer you up. We aren't like him, you know."

She found herself smiling at his stumbling. She reached out, and he grasped her hand in his own. "I promise to have you home by midnight," he added, making puppy dog eyes at her.

"Thank you, Philip, dinner would be nice," she heard herself saying, surprised to find that she was actually looking forward to it.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Julia stared at her reflection, not completely satisfied by what she saw.

Philip had surprised her far more than she had suspected, with his dinner invitation. More so, when he intended it for that very evening.

When she'd left Collinwood, dinner dates had been the furthest thing from her mind, as she cast a critical eye over the few dresses she deemed suitable. Finally she made her selection, still feeling unsure.

When a knock resounded on her door, at eight o'clock, prompt, she was having a bad case of the jitters. Was she doing the right thing? It had only been three weeks...it was too soon. The knock came again, followed, by "Julia? Is everything alright?"

"Just a moment!" she called, hurrying to fix an earring. She paused just long enough to give her reflection a quick once over. She almost headed back to the wardrobe, to select another outfit, when Philip's knock came again, sounding a little impatient. It would have to do.

Philip stared at her, when she finally opened the door. He looked her up and down, not bothering to hide his actions. He shook his head, and that boyish smile of his, almost took her breath away. "Julia!" he whispered, in an awed voice. "You look...stunning!"

She felt her cheeks burn, and looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling embarrassed by his obvious interest. How did he make her feel like a schoolgirl?

"You don't think it's too much?" she asked doubtfully.

"Too much?" he repeated, with a frown. "Are you kidding! It's perfect!" He grew serious, suddenly understanding her self-deprecation. "You're having doubts, that you're doing the right thing? Well don't. You're going to have a fantastic night, and you're not going to feel guilty about it. Come on, or we'll be late."

Philip was right. She was having a fantastic night. Shortly after arriving at the restaurant, they had cocktails, before heading through to dinner.

Their table was close to a fire, but far enough from other couple's tables to allow complete privacy. The lighting was subdued, and two candles, were lit to each table. Mellow music low so as not to drown out conversation was piped through, and the whole effect was quite pleasing. It was obvious that he had spared nothing.

After the meal, they had taken to the dance floor, where Philip proved to be an excellent dancer. After awhile, they returned, slightly breathless, to their table, for more conversation. As she relaxed, she felt the tension of the few weeks, leave her. All too soon, Philip was leading her back to the dance floor. The music slowed, and he held her more tightly to him, as they moved around the floor. "Did you know that you're the most beautiful woman, to grace this place?" he whispered against her ear, as the dance finally ended.

She looked up at him, uncharacteristically at a loss for words. He raised her left hand to his lips, not taking his eyes from her face. "Come on, I'll take you home."

They were stood outside the door to her apartment. "Thank you, Philip," she said looking up at him, with the first genuine smile he had seen since their unexpected reunion. "I had a wonderful evening."

He leaned against the doorframe, his hands deep in his pockets. He raised a hand, and gently caressed her cheek. "It was worth very minute to see that smile," he said quietly. "I'm glad that you enjoyed yourself. It's what you needed. Maybe...maybe we could do it again?" he suggested, hopefully.

She only took a moment to consider his request. With a nod, and a smile, she said, "I'd like that."

"Excellent!" he enthused. Standing straight, he stared at her a moment, and then leaned forward, and kissed her cheek. "Goodnight, Julia," he said, before turning down the hall, and heading to his own room.

She watched him until he disappeared, a trace of the smile still lingering, before heading into her apartment.

Willie opened the doors of the Old House, after the third knock. "M-Mrs Stoddard!" he said in surprise. It wasn't often that the mistress of Collinwood graced the Old House with her presence.

"I knocked several times," she explained, "I was beginning to think that I had made a wasted journey."

"I'm sorry; I wasn't expectin' ya," said Willie. "But Barnabas..."

"It's Barnabas that I've come to see Willie," she said quietly. "At your insistence," she added, raising an eyebrow.

"I see," said Willie, looking down. "I appreciate it, Mrs Stoddard. I don't know what else to do."

He opened the door wider and stepped back, allowing her entrance. In the several weeks, since Julia's departure, both he and Barnabas had tried several times, to try and persuade Liz Stoddard to reveal the whereabouts of Julia. She had refused, repeatedly, to betray her friend. Barnabas' calls to Wyndcliffe, hadn't revealled her whereabouts, either.

Finally, the requests had stopped; and they had seen Barnabas less frequently. She had mistakenly thought the matter was dropped, until Willie had arrived, begging for her to tell him where Julia had gone. His agitated manner had alarmed her, especially when she mentioned Barnabas. When questioned further, regarding her cousin, he had simply replied, "not good." He begged her to come to the Old House; and judge for herself, what was the best course of action to take.

Elizabeth entered the living room of the Old House, not sure what to expect. The room was dark, which was unusual for the time of day. There was no fire in the hearth, though Barnabas was seated facing it. Head bowed and turned away from her, she couldn't clearly see his face.

"Barnabas?" she called quietly, not wishing to disturb him, not knowing if he were asleep or a wake. When he did stir, she called his name again, louder. Still there was no response. She looked at first accusingly at Willie, but seeing the younger man's concerned expression, became more alarmed.

She moved closer to the chair, Barnabas occupied, and standing so that he could see her, she said, "I came to see if there was anything, I could do. Willie mentioned that you're not feeling too well."

Slowly, Barnabas turned to face her, and she repressed the startled gasp at his appearance. The man she had known as cousin had been replaced by a complete stranger. Surely, the dishevelled, unshaven, hollow eyed man before her, wasn't Barnabas Collins?

"Barnabas, what's wrong?" she asked, as he turned away from her, without acknowledging her presence. "Perhaps I could help?"

He shook his head, slowly. "It's too late for that, Elizabeth. Far too late." He thin chest rose and fell, with his sigh, and she realised that he had lost weight. Too much, perhaps, from the way his clothes hung from his too lean frame. "I had the truest love, and now it's gone forever. Nothing will bring it back...nothing." He lapsed into silence, and nothing would draw him out.

Liz moved over to the twin pillars, and Willie moved closer to her at her quick gesture. "I'm worried about him, Willie," she admitted. "He's obviously not looking after himself."

Willie nodded slightly. "I've tried everything I can, Mrs Stoddard, but he won't eat; he ain't sleepin'. Julia would know what to do; she always knew how to handle him. At least, until they kinda hada fallin' out. But, I'm sure she wouldn't want him to be like this."

"I suppose not. And they were very close." She glanced towards the high wing-back chair. "I must think about this very carefully, Willie. And _if _I should decide to call Julia, I don't want you to say a word, to Mr. Barnabas, before I have news."

"I understand, Mrs. Stoddard," replied Willie, solemnly. "I'm as worried about him, just as much as you are. When Julia left without tellin' him..." he shook his head, without finishing the sentence.

Philip entered Julia's office without knocking a pile of folders under his arm. Seeing that she was in the middle of a telephone call, he sat down in the comfy chair opposite her desk, and waited until she had finished her call. He looked up as he heard her replace the receiver, and immediately rose to his feet. "Julia, what's wrong?" he asked, deeply concerned as her face drained of colour.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Julia rose from her chair, and walked over to the window. Philip watched her closely, but didn't move.

"That was Elizabeth Stoddard," Julia began slowly. "She was calling because she's extremely worried…about her cousin...Barnabas Collins."

Something in the way she said the name made Philip's ears prick. Over the past few weeks, Julia had mentioned being on a hiatus, spending most of her time, at Collinsport, a small sea town, roughly a hundred miles away.

"Barnabas Collins? Is he...?" he asked, before he could stop his mouth running away with him.

She remained silent for several minutes, before she spoke again. "The relationship between...Barnabas and I, was...complicated. He was aware that I had...feelings..." her voice trailed off, as a memory of the look he had given her, in 1840, in the few days, before Angelique died. She had taken it as a sign that there was hope that a future with him, might be possible...that at long last, he could return her feelings. They both had, at different times, admitted to Angelique that they were devoted to the other.

When she'd been the victim of the vampire, Roxanne, Barnabas had been furious with the witch, for what she had almost succeeding in doing to her. Which baffled and hurt her all the more, when he had turned around and said he'd loved her, after all. Did their friendship mean anything? Anything at all? Even after their return to 1971, she had stood by him, hoping that somehow, she could get through to him. But he had chosen to stand by Angelique, after all that she had done to him; it had been to his witch wife, that he had turned to.

Philip looked at her sympathetically, and was grateful that she couldn't see it. She was a proud woman, and fiercely independent. From the deep sadness and hurt, evident in her tone, and the reaction he'd witnessed on their first meeting, she had loved him, and perhaps still loved him, very deeply.

"What happened?" he asked gently, finally going to her, hesitating, before resting his hand on her shoulder. He felt her tense, at his touch, and give her a shoulder a gentle squeeze, before removing his hand.

"Nothing..." she said, her voice sounding far away. "For a time, I thought that perhaps, he might...return my love..."

"But he didn't..." Philip pushed gently.

"No," said Julia, pulling herself together, and wrapping her arms around herself, as she walked away from him. "He decided, he loved his wife more," she tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice, but she knew it was there, and knew that he had heard it. She turned to him.

He stood, his head tilted slightly, to the left, staring at her intently.

"He's married?" he asked, genuinely surprised.

"I suppose you're going to say, I've brought it all on myself," she said, the bitterness still evident.

"No," said Philip stoutly, "only that I never realised that he had a wife. Julia," he said going over to her. "If you think I'll think any less of you, because you got involved with a married man...you're badly mistaken. He must have made quite an impression, for you to even consider..."

"He's from England," she explained, "and when the marriage began to fail…he decided to visit the home of his ancestors. I met him at Collinwood, and after a...stormy start, we became friends...I don't know when my feelings towards him changed...only that there was nothing I wouldn't do for him, nor he for me...until his wife came back. They decided on a reconciliation...and I came back here."

"Then he is more of a fool than I thought he was," replied Philip, "and if I ever get the opportunity, I shall tell him so. But why did Elizabeth call to say that she's worried about him? Is he ill?"

Her expression became guarded. Already she had revealed too much. Why, even now, was she still so determined to protect him? "He's taken my...departure badly..."

"Well so he should, the way he's treated you!" fumed, Philip. "This is hard, I know, and I hate to have to be the one that says it, but you're out of his life now, with only himself to blame. Let his wife take care of him and his problems."

Later that evening, when he was returning from his rounds, he heard raised, but slightly muffled voices coming from Julia's office. One was unmistakably her's, the other he didn't recognise, but from the accent, assumed it to be the elusive Mr. Barnabas Collins.

He paused where he was, undecided on if he should interfere or not. Feeling that perhaps Julia, might need the time, to get Barnabas out of her system, he decided that perhaps a few more minutes longer, wouldn't do any harm. He glanced worriedly towards her office door, still wondering if he were doing the right thing. He moved towards the door, grasped the handle, then changed his mind at the last second, and continued on with his other rounds. If they were still arguing, when he came back, then he wouldn't hesitate to intervene.

Julia stared at Barnabas, aghast. "You have some nerve, Barnabas! Coming here, and demanding answers!" She had at first been surprised to see him, and then shocked, by his appreance. Surely, this thin, dishevelled stranger, before her, wasn't the impeccable, Barnabas Collins, that she knew and loved? He seemed a shadow of his former self. Elizabeth had warned her of his appreance, should he turn up at Wyndcliffe, but it hadn't prepared her for the reality of it.

"I thought we were friends," he shot back, the eyes in the too pale face, flashing angrily.

"I thought so, too, until you said you loved Angelique!"

"So, we're back to that!" he said, still sounding angry, but his gaze riveted now to the carpet.

"We never left it, Barnabas! Can you honestly look me in the eye, and tell me that you would have been happy with her, Barnabas? Truly happy?"

He risked facing her. "She changed, Julia. Why can't you accept that?"

"I could if I thought it would last. Her kind, don't change, Barnabas. At least, not for long."

"And what about _my _kind, Julia?" he asked. "I changed."

"Because you wanted to, Barnabas. She didn't, there was a difference."

"She removed the curse without payment, she give herself up, when Quentin was close to death, with considerable danger to herself!"

Julia sighed and shook her head. She paced the floor between her and

Barnabas. "Barnabas, we've been through all of this! Your arguments haven't changed form six weeks ago!"

"I have my reasons," he said vaguely, returning his gaze to the carpet, unable to look her in the eye.

The door opened, and a tall, gray, curly-haired man entered, looking non-too pleased. "Do I have to remind you, that this is a hospital?" he whispered, angrily. "I could hear you, half way down the hall!"

Julia went immediately to his side, and Barnabas' eyes narrowed suspiciously. He stared pointedly at the stranger that had burst in upon them unexpectedly, a thought he didn't quite like crossed his mind, and he suddenly sensed a rival.

"Philip," said Julia, guiding him further into the room, by his arm, "This is Barnabas Collins, Elizabeth's cousin. Barnabas, this is Philip Montgomery, my joint Chief of Staff."

_So_, mused Philip, _this is Barnabas_. He stared at the other man, not sure, what it was about him exactly, that would have caught Julia's interest. He wasn't what he had imagined him to be. After all, the man was a Collins, and they were supposed to be pretty well off. Perhaps, Mr. Barnabas had fallen on hard times?

Realising that Julia was watching them both, they both stuck a hand out, in greeting almost at the same time. _At least his grip is firm_, mused Philip. _I'll give him that_. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Collins," said Philip, though he was far from it.

"Likewise, Dr. Montgomery," respond, Barnabas, feeling equally delighted.

"Have you known Julia, long?"

"Since medical school. When we graduated, I went overseas, for a number of years."

An awkward silence hung in the air, between them, each reluctant to be the one to break it.

Finally, it was Barnabas that was the first to speak. "Will you think over what I've said, Julia?" he asked, obvious to the other two, that he didn't want Philip to know what they had been discussing. Though it was possible that he had heard enough to figure some of it out.

"There is nothing to decide, Barnabas," she said firmly. "I think we've said all that we have to say."

He stared at her, with that wounded look; he reserved only for her, when she wouldn't go along with any of his plans. "You won't change your mind?" he asked, quietly.

"Will you?" she asked, scathingly, making him look down at the floor again, a muscle twitched in his jaw. "I thought so," she replied, at his silence.

He looked her quickly and then at Philip, before turning to head out the door.

"I'll come with you, Mr. Collins," piped up Philip suddenly. "I didn't realise that Julia had a guest, and I've already locked up for the night. We have a number of patients, that sometimes wonder at night." He turned to face Julia. "It won't take more than a few minutes. Will there be anything else that you need?"

She looked steadily, at Barnabas, as she spoke. "No, I have everything I need, here."

Philip and Barnabas walked in silence towards the front entrance of Wyndcliffe. Philip paused, before unlocking the door, and turned to face Barnabas. Now it was his turn to regard Barnabas as a rival.

"What was the purpose of your visit tonight, Mr. Collins?" he asked, letting his dislike show.

"That is between Julia and I, Doctor," said Barnabas, in a cutting tone, his dark eyes, narrowing.

"You're quite wrong," interjected Philip. "Julia is a good friend of mine, a damn good friend, and I won't stand by and let her get hurt. And you've hurt her enough."

"Is that a threat?" asked Barnabas, straightening up, trying to intimidate him.

"You can take it anyway you like," he replied, not in the least intimidated. "You're no longer welcome here. Leave her, alone, Mr. Collins...go back to your wife, and leave Julia alone."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Philip found Julia in her office, later the next morning, daydreaming. He frowned slightly; was this another new characteristic of hers, since she'd become involved with the Collins family? Or just one particular member?

As he drew closer he saw the tiredness in her face, and her eyes still bore signs of crying. He silently damned Barnabas, for putting her through another emotional roller coaster, once more. What right had he, to upset her like this? To remind her, of everything she was trying to forget?

Until last night, she had been braving through her separation, and had shown signs of at least trying to get over him. He knew it would be hard for her, break ups always were; even if they were one sided. Her interest in Collins still eluded him. But she had, and that was all that mattered.

"Julia?" he asked, gently, so as not to startle her. "I have the reports that you asked for," he said, placing a number of files on her desk.

She stirred from her thoughts, sniffed, wiped her nose, and then wiped at her eyes, furtively, before reaching for the files. He's hand covered hers and she looked up at him. "I'm alright," she said, at the unasked question, she saw in his brown eyes.

He smiled, bleakly. "You'll forgive me, but I don't believe you," he reproved her gently. "Admit it, Julia. It's him, isn't it? Barnabas?"

She looked down, a wan smile of her own touching her lips. "You've gotten to know me quite well, haven't you?"

"I know a friend who is deeply hurt, and in pain. Fortunately, the cause will no longer be a problem. I told Barnabas last night, that he's no longer welcome here. He'll not trouble you again, with unannounced visits."

Barnabas sat in the chair, staring into the empty hearth, fingers, steepled under his chin, deep in thought.

Willie entered the room, customary tea towel, tucked into the loops of his jeans. He wiped his hands, nervously, at Barnabas' pensive expression. He had thought, that he's visit with Julia would have made a difference; but judging from his mood, it had obviously gone badly. He sighed deeply, and shook his head. Was it Julia, that he was brooding over, or his dead wife, he wondered. Either way, it didn't much matter. It was time; Barnabas faced the truth, and did something about it.

"Ya know, stittin' broodin' about it, ain't gonna bring her back," he said, tidying some books.

"When I want your opinion, I shall ask for it," said Barnabas, tersely, not moving or taking his gaze from the empty hearth.

"...you've gotta work at it, make her want to come back," Willie went on, as though Barnabas hadn't spoken.

Barnabas' dark eyes, glittered, angrily. "Be quite, Willie!" he barked. "Your voice is irritating me!"

Willie turned to face him, unmindful of the fury, in the dark, penetrating eyes of his friend. "Not actin' as if you don't care, if she comes back or not."

Barnabas was up on his feet, and out of his chair, before Willie could blink. Barnabas' face was only inches from his. "I said be quite! As usual you're talking nonsense!"

Willie faced him, completely terrified, but at the same time felt exhilarated. "Nonsense, am I?" he asked, nodding his head. "Then why did you keep askin' Mrs Stoddard, to tell ya, where Julia was? And thinkin' all kinds of things when she wouldn't tell ya? You want her back, Barnabas, so why won't ya admit it?"

"I don't have to answer to you!" bellowed Barnabas. "My reasons are my own!" Turning he marched past him, and out of the front doors.

Julia looked up sharply, at his words. "You've told him what?" she asked, furiously. "How dare you!"

Taken aback, by her sudden fury, Philip let go of her hand, and stepped back. "I'm only trying to help, Julia. I could see how much he upset you, last night."

"He's my friend, Philip!" she exclaimed, "and despite our...differences, he is welcome here!"

"I'm sorry," he said contritely, looking down. "I thought I was doing the right thing. I just can't stand by and see you hurt and upset." He looked up to face her, and her anger. "You deserve better, than him, Julia. There are other men in this world, other than Barnabas Collins, who would consider themselves, fortunate, to win your heart. I'm sorry, but I stand by what I told him."

He bowed his head slightly, and then walked out of the office, feeling her shocked eyes watching him.

Later, towards evening, when he returned to her office, she was standing by the coffee table, admiring the largest bouquet of roses, he had ever seen. As he came closer, he could see the smile on her face, as she leaned forward to smell their fragrance.

"Oh, Philip, they're beautiful! But you really shouldn't have!"

He gazed at the roses, and her happy countenance, then back to the roses.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Julia," he said, with regret, heavy in his tone. She turned to face him, her smile frozen in place, as he continued. "But I didn't send them. Though I certainly wish I did."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The mystery sender of the roses still remained unsolved, three weeks later. There had been no card, and no other indication of where the flowers had come from. Philip had his own ideas, of who had sent them, but wisely kept his opinion to himself. Julia had made it perfectly clear that he had over stepped the mark, when he had ordered Barnabas to stay away from her, and Wyndcliffe. And so far, it had appeared that Collins had taken him at his word.

It had become a habit, since the night they had first had dinner together, in devoting one night to themselves. Though it was a slow process, Julia shown signs of finally putting her life at Collinwood, behind her, though he silently wished that Barnabas Collins would vanish almost as quickly. He knew it would taker longer for him, to leave her system; after five years of loving him, it wasn't that simple or easy to forget him.

Though there were still moments he crossed her mind, she began to laugh more, and there was a new aura of acceptance around her. She looked better and more relaxed than when he had first seen her several weeks before.

They were working closely together, pouring over reports. Philip had made a coffee for them both, and they were sitting on the comfortable couch, in her office. Julia, still looking at her notes, reached for her mug, and encountered Philip's hand. Startled, she looked up, and was about to pull away, when he stopped her, and grasped her hand. She stared at him in puzzled silence, but didn't pull away. He returned her gaze, silently, for a few moments, and then, slowly bent forward, and kissed her, his lips caressing hers gently. For a moment, she didn't responded, and then, as he was about to pull away, at her rejection, she returned the pressure.

Barnabas leaned against the door, and closed his eyes. The rain had drenched him, his soaked hair was plastered against his head, and the rain that ran like rivers, from the bangs that fringed his forehead, were largely ignored. He sighed deeply, wearily.

Dazedly he walked into the drawing room, his thoughts a million miles away.

Willie entered, summoned by the opening and closing of the front doors. He stared in silence at Barnabas, knowing that talking to him right now would be madness. Barnabas slowly removed his coat; only now aware of the soaking he had received. He grimaced slightly at the small twinge that gripped his stomach, before handing the coat to Willie, who took it silently.

"Can I get ya, anythin', Barnabas?" he asked finally, as the older man sat down, in his favourite chair. Since the argument that had ended with Barnabas, storming out, three weeks ago, he hadn't been the easiest person to approach. And Willie was beginning to suspect that it had nothing to do with Angelique. Whatever was bothering him, it certainly wasn't anything to do with his dead wife. There was a difference about him, that Willie couldn't really explain, or understand; only that a change _had _taken place and Angelique wasn't the reason.

"No," he said, quietly, still lost in his thoughts.

Willie turned to go, and then, biting his lower lip nervously, ventured closer. "I wasn't any good a school; didn't have the best of educations; didn't have many friends, and the friends I did have were no hopers, just like me. But I know when a friend, needs to talk. I'm a good listener, and good at keepin' my mouth shut, when it counts. I came back to work for ya, because I wanted to, not because I had to. I know who you are, and what you were, and I'll never betray ya, Barnabas. You know you can trust me. I wanna help, if only you'll let me." He hesitated a moment, Barnabas' coat folded over his arm, and then turned to leave.

"Willie, wait," said Barnabas, softly, from his chair. Sensing that Willie was waiting he rose from his chair, and turned to face his friend. Willie waited expectantly.

Barnabas looked uncomfortable, and awkwardly twisted the onyx ring on his left hand. "I...do need someone to talk to."

"Let me hang this up to dry an' I'll be right back..."

Abruptly, Julia pulled back and rose to her feet. Philip remained seated, watching her closely.

"Philip, I..." she began, awkwardly. She shook her head; "...I can't do this..."

"Yes you can, Julia," he responded, getting to his feet, and going over to her. "You're a free agent, and can do as you please."

Her back was to him. "It's too soon..."

He turned her to face him, and lifted her chin up, forcing her to look him in the eye. "When you fall off a horse you get right back in the saddle, and try again. He didn't think it was too soon, to think of loving his wife, or casting you aside, when he did. He's made his choice, Julia, and you made yours. I know you can never love me, like you love him, but in time..." he took her by the arms, and stared at her intently. "I love you, Julia. I have since medical school. And I'm asking you, to marry me."

"And what about Angelique?" Willie wanted to know, after Barnabas had said the little that he was willing to say.

"I have my own reasons, Willie, that I can not tell even you," he replied.

Willie nodded, looking thoughtful, and not taking Barnabas' statement to heart. He knew him far better than that.

"Can't you talk to Julia about this?" he asked, finally.

"I can't," he said, looking down, and turning away, biting his nails, nervously. "I'm no longer welcome at Wyndcliffe."

Willie looked shocked. "Julia?" he couldn't believe that Julia would go that far, surely.

"No, it wasn't Julia. She has a friend, a Philip Montgomery, working with her, and he seems...interested..." he paused and returned to the fire, his back to Willie.

A small grin began to form on his lips, but managed to quickly hide it, when it seemed that Barnabas might see it.

"Is she...interested in him?" he ventured to ask. Suddenly wondering what she had made of the bouquet of roses he had sent to her. He'd figured that she would think Barnabas had sent them, but now that another man was on the scene, it was possible that his plan to get them talking to each other had backfired, and she would assume they'd been from this…Philip Whoever. He's heart sank, wondering if his two friends would ever heal the rift that was ever widening, between them, or if he's misplaced gesture had only made things worse.

Barnabas remained silent, studying the flames. "She told him about me," he said instead, his voice, holding a strange quality to it.

"She'd never betray ya, Barnabas," protested, Willie, "she loves you..." He stopped when Barnabas turned to face him, a warning look on his face. "I know she wouldn't betray me, Willie..." he assured him, " and I know why. But if she has found happiness with Philip, then..."

"Tell her, Barnabas!" said Willie, determinedly, suddenly understanding. "Go to Wyndcliffe, and tell her. It still might not be too late. You won't know unless you try! And believe me, if you don't you'll always be wonderin' and that's worse, than not knowin."

Julia looked up at him, shocked. Marriage had been the last thing she had expected from him. A smile twitched at the corners of his lips, at her wide, surprised eyes. "I've shocked you, I know. I've surprised myself too," he readily admitted. "But, every word is true."

"I-I don't know what to say," she said, still feeling stunned by his declaration, and proposal.

"If you need time to think it over...take as long as you need," he said, not knowing what else to say.

When she heard him leave, she returned to the couch, and fell rather than sat, into it, still feeling uttered shocked by what he had said. It was true that they had become close, over the last twelve weeks, and she did enjoy his company. Lately she'd found herself looking forward to seeing him, and even entered a room, just because she knew he would either be there, or would in time, turn up. Something she had once done with Barnabas.

If she were to be honest with herself and she had to admit that this was one of those times, she was becoming more and more attracted to him and that both shocked and surprised her. But could she marry him? Was enjoying his company, and finding her attraction to him, growing, enough to consider his proposal? Barnabas had made it quite clear that he would never change his mind, or return her love…the look he'd given her, when Philip had unexpectedly entered the room, came vividly to mind. Thoughts of Barnabas made her heart skip, and she found herself torn, once more.

Two nights later, she still hadn't given Philip her answer, deciding to give it the serious thought that it required. True to his word, he had not mentioned it again, and continued to carry out his work, with his usual efficiency.

After a particular busy day, she'd kicked off her shoes, and wriggling her toes, had cast a beseeching looking at Philip, and asked if he minded their not going out on their usual date. He'd smiled, and leaned down kissed her on her forehead, and said he didn't. Then leaving her office had returned to his duties.

It was with a sense of mild annoyance that he found Barnabas installed in her office, when he returned. He knew Julia to be on her own rounds, and now he faced his rival from across the desk. When he spoke he let the annoyance show. "I thought I told you, that you were unwelcome here, Mr. Collins?" he asked, hoping that he could get rid of him, without Julia ever finding out. He wouldn't make that mistake again.

"I needed to see Julia, on a personal matter, Doctor," he replied carefully.

"And what does your wife think about this?"

"My wife is dead," he replied, quietly, looking down at the carpet, his hand gripped the sliver head of his cane tightly for a moment.

Philip was silent for a moment, and when Barnabas returned his glance, he couldn't hide the sneer. "Julia didn't tell you," he said, almost haughtily.

"No," admitted Philip, and then because it seemed the right thing to say, he added, "I'm sorry."

Barnabas remained silent, regarding him with hostile eyes.

"It's perhaps a good thing you're here, after all, Collins," Philip replied, brightly, changing the subject. "Julia and I are soon to announce our engagement."

He relished the utterly shocked look on his face. He's statement had had the desired effect. Barnabas quickly recovered his poise. "I…see," he said, quietly, looking down at the floor again, feeling that if a hole appeared now, he would willingly jump into it.

He gripped his cane, tightly again, and then rose to his feet, suddenly not wanting to be there. "Let me be the first to congratulate you," he said, though it wasn't a convincing statement, and he didn't much care. "It's a long drive, and I should be going."

"Leaving so soon, Mr. Collins?" smirked Philip. "Julia will be sorry to have missed you."

Barnabas looked at him, with daggers, wishing that looks could kill.

The door opened, admitting Julia. "Barnabas!" startled at seeing him. He looked a little better, than when he had first appeared in her office; he appeared to have gained a little extra weight in the few weeks, though he seemed slighter paler than she remembered.

Philip rose from the corner of the desk where he'd perched, when Barnabas had stated that he was leaving. "I'm afraid he was just about to leave," he said, sadly, for her benefit.

"I realise that I'm not welcome here, but…I had to see you." He's jaw clenched a muscle twitched, and his grip tightened, on his cane, until the knuckles turned white. "I didn't know where else to go."

Alarmed, Julia was at his side, "Barnabas what's wrong?" She paused a beat then, "You're in pain!"

He swallowed before answering. "It's nothing, serious, Julia, please don't concern yourself."

She turned to face Philip. "Would you mind, Philip?" she asked, "I need to speak to Barnabas alone."

His expression revealed that he did mind, a great deal, but he quickly hid it. "Of course not," he said, confidently. Going over to her, he kissed her cheek, and with a quickly glance at Barnabas, and noting the sour look, headed triumphantly out the door.

When he'd gone, Julia turned to Barnabas once more, a look of concern on her face. "What's this about? Of course you're welcome here."

He gritted his teeth; his face contorting slightly, as a spasm of pain gripped him, more forcefully.

"Barnabas what is it?" she asked again, her concern genuine.

It was several minutes, before he relaxed slightly. He faced her, fear bright in his hazel eyes. He's voice broke as he spoke, as another spasm engulfed, and he began to shake violently. "Julia...I'm starting to revert!"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Her eyes widened, at his words. "Barnabas, no!" she gasped, a hand rising to her throat. "Are you certain..." Horror and despair, edging her voice.

She would never have expected this, in a million years. She'd so hoped, that this time, he would remain free. She felt the old fury at Angelique, swell within her, and again, wondered how he could ever profess to "love" her. But that was beside the point now.

"Yes, Julia," he responded through a grimace. "I have reason to know."

"When were you certain?"

"It began, slowly, six weeks ago," he began, moving away from her a little.

Julia noticed that he leaned slightly more on his cane, as if needing it for support. "A feeling of fatigue, during the day, and a feeling of restlessness during the night. A marked loss of appetite. Other changes began to follow; my vision deteriorated during the day, but my night vision improved greatly. Hearing has sharpened, and so has my sense of smell.

Bright sunlight is uncomfortable, and now, the dawn is almost impossible to watch. Then, two nights ago, the pain started," he turned to her, fearfully. "I've had it before...when my father chained me in the coffin." He hissed in breath, his face paling, and his hand gripped the cane, fiercely.

Julia went to his side, and guided him to the sofa. He's free hand clutched hers, as the spasm coursed through him. "Tonight is the worst it's been," he said through gritted teeth. "I didn't...know who else...to go to…"

"How did you even manage to drive here, like this!" she wanted to know, alarmed by his symptoms, and the obvious pain he was in.

"I...managed..." he muttered, between clenched teeth. His free hand, released hers, and balled into a fist, the knuckles turning an alarming white.

"It's a miracle you even got here…why didn't you call me?"

"...Philip..."

"Had no right to say what he did. If I had known sooner...You're always welcome here, Barnabas. Now, you can't go back to Collinsport like this. I need to run some tests, anyway, so you're better off here. You're in too much pain, right now, so the tests will have to wait, until tomorrow. I have a spare room, in my apartment that you can use, for tonight."

He turned to her, his pain, forgotten slightly, as the weight of her words, sank in. "Julia, is that wise?" he asked, doing his best to ignore the pain.

She looked at him, puzzled. "Wise?" she questioned. "Letting you drive off into the night, in the condition you're in, isn't wise, Barnabas. Staying here is the wisest and the best option available."

He struggled to his feet, leaning heavily on his cane. He turned to face her. "Is it appropriate?" he tried again, to make her see what her offer might look like.

She smiled, finally understanding. "Barnabas, after all the times, I've stayed at the Old House, you're suddenly concerned about propriety. I'm inviting you into my home, Barnabas, the same as you did."

He looked down at the carpet, his jaw clenching. "I meant with Philip."

Confused, she frowned. "Philip? What has he got to do with it?"

Barnabas looked up, her attitude puzzling him. Then, with a difficulty he never thought possible, he forced out the words, "You are soon to be engaged, Julia. He's feelings have to be considered..."

"Philip and I, are not engaged, Barnabas. Nor am I planning to, in the future," she replied, leaving no doubt in his mind, that he had just put his foot in it, once more, with Montgomery.

"But he has asked you to marry him?" he pushed, watching her carefully.

Now it was her turn to look down. She raised a hand, and began playing with her necklace. What was Philip up to? She had warned him about interfering with Barnabas; why couldn't he leave things alone? She knew that he blamed and disliked Barnabas, for what he had done...or thought he had done. His only saving grace was that he didn't know all the facts. But that wasn't enough to totally exonerate him, in his underhandedness, in deliberately leading Barnabas on.

Finally she faced Barnabas again, knowing in her heart that she would help him to overcome this, just as she always had. She loved him, and nothing would or ever could, change it. "Yes," she admitted quietly. "He has asked me to marry him, but I have yet to give him my answer. He's being presumptuous, and he had no right, nor any reason, to tell you otherwise. Barnabas, right now, all that matters, is getting you well again. Come."

It was the first time that he had been to her apartment, and he looked around her spare room, with a sense of awkwardness. Her admission that Montgomery had spoken out of turn had bolstered his spirits. Perhaps the distance between them could be healed, with time. He was willing to admit, to himself, at least, that he had missed her, since she had left Collinwood; or even begin to understand the impact she had had on his life.

He heard her return, his new improved hearing, for now an advantage. He allowed a small smile to touch his lips, before a spasm of pain engulfed him.

Julia entered the room, carrying a pair of men's pyjamas. She handed them over to him, with a bemused expression. "I got this from down the hall. They should fit."

He took them silently, still feeling awkward in her home. This was her domain, and it showed. He wondered how she could appear so comfortable at the Old House, or Collinwood, as if she belonged there. She moved about with an ease, he could only envy; she made the place her own.

"...give you something for the pain, when you've finished dressing..." he heard her say, breaking into his thoughts. She turned to leave; to allow him to undress, when he's voice stopped her.

"Thank you, Julia."

She kept her back to him, not wanting him to see the tears that sparkled, unshed in her eyes. She would never get used to him being in pain or discomfort, and once more her anger towards the woman who had caused so much death and misery, swelled within her.

"You don't have to thank me, Barnabas," she said, grateful that her voice was steady.

Ten minutes later, when she returned to the room, he was sitting on the bed, waiting for her. He grimaced, as the painkiller entered his bloodstream. As he finally drifted off to sleep, he muttered under his breath, which she barely caught. "...not too late..."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

When Philip entered the office, the next morning, Julia was at her desk, writing out a paper.

"Well, everyone is present and correct," he said cheerfully, sitting down in the chair in front of the desk. She looked up as he sat down, and he quickly noticed how pale and tired she looked.

"You look tired, Julia," he commented, with an air of concern. "Up all night, with a patient?"

"Barnabas was restless last night, and in a lot of pain."

"Barnabas?" asked Philip, sounding surprised. "He seemed alright when I talked to him."

"That's because you don't _know _him," she responded, curtly.

"Obviously," he said, dryly. "Where is he now?"

"He's in my guest room, sleeping."

"He's _what_? Julia are you mad!"

Julia looked at him pointedly. "He was in immense pain. He couldn't drive back to Collinsport. What would you have me do, Philip?" Her anger was increasing by the minute. "Tell him, I'm about to married?"

"Oh," said Philip, looking down at his hands. "He told you."

"Yes! He told me, Philip!" she was truly angry now. "What possessed you! I've told you before, about interfering with Barnabas! He's my _friend_! And, right now he needs my help. And if you can't accept that...what have you against him?"

"I don't like what he's done to you…what he's still doing. Admit it, Julia, the real reason you're so angry about this, is because you still love him."

"I didn't say that."

"You don't have to," he said rising to his feet, and stalking out of the office and her anger.

Philip made his way up to the apartment, and looking around furtively, to make sure he hadn't been seen, carefully entered.

He made his way to the guestroom, and leaned against the door, listening. When he was satisfied that he wouldn't be disturbed, he slowly opened the door. The room was in shadow, almost dark. Barnabas' clothes were neatly folded, on a chair, his caped coat, draped over the back of it. The man himself was lying in the bed, the bedclothes pulled up to his chin. He was laid on his back, his pale face, turned towards the window. He approached the bed, and stared down at the sleeping occupant.

Barnabas seemed barely to be breathing, and the colour of his skin give him an almost corpselike appearance.

"Collins!" he hissed, reaching out and shaking him. "Collins, wake up!" he barked again.

Barnabas didn't stir. Philip shook him again, more roughly. "Wake up, Collins! I want to talk to you!" Again, Barnabas didn't stir.

Philip walked over to the curtains, and pulled them aside, allowing the sunlight to fill the room. The sunbeams fell across the bed. Immediately Barnabas began to stir. He grimaced and moved restlessly in the bed, trying to get away from the sun that fell across him, he groaned, but grew quite again, as he found a shaded spot, and became still.

Philip heard the door opening; alarmed he hurriedly pulled the curtain back, and looked round frantically for a hiding place. Finally he settled for the closet. He'd barely gotten himself inside, when Julia entered the room.

"Barnabas?" she called softly and quietly approached the bed. "Barnabas?" she called again, gently reaching out to him. Once more he didn't stir. She felt for his hand, and then taking his wrist between finger and thumb, and timing with her watch, checked his pulse. After a few minutes she returned his arm to the covers, and after staring him, for a moment longer, pulled the covers up closer to his chin, and then left the room.

Once he was sure that she had left, Philip moved quickly from his hiding place, and after a brief glance in Barnabas' direction, quickly left the apartment.

When she returned later that afternoon, he was still asleep. "Barnabas?" she said gently, shaking him. "Barnabas, it's time to wake up."

He stirred, grimacing slightly. He opened his eyes, and then closed them again, quickly. The sound of her voice made him turn. He opened his eyes, still looking tired. "Julia?" he questioned, drowsily. He raised a hand and rubbed at his eyes, wondering what she was doing in his room. Then, as he peered sleepily around the room, he realised with a start that this wasn't his room, and it wasn't the Old House. He frowned, trying to remember where he was, turning to face her, he asked, "What time is it?"

She watched him, a smile touching her lips. "A little after four-thirty. You've slept nearly all day."

He closed his eyes, with a groan. "Not again," he whispered. He opened his eyes, and looked at her again, "I'm sorry, Julia," he said apologetically, "I didn't mean to sleep so late..."

She patted his hand. "You don't have to apologise, Barnabas. How do you feel?"

He settled further into the bed, feeling far too comfortable. "A little better," he admitted, "but still tired," he said with a frown.

Julia nodded, her gaze understanding. "Well, that's to be expected, despite the sleep you've had. You didn't rest until dawn."

He gazed at her, seeing for the first time, that she appeared tired. He felt guilt wash over him. "I disturbed you..." he began.

She shook her head, silencing him. "I sat up with you, because I wanted to. Stop apologising, Barnabas. Now, why don't you, get dressed and freshen up, while I make dinner? I want to examine you, and go through your symptoms. Then I can start on some tests. I'll also need a blood sample."

She rose from her chair, and headed towards the door. "Bath room, is second door down, on the left."

She entered her own room, which was next to Barnabas'. Deciding to change, before she started dinner. After five minutes, she heard Barnabas pass her door, and smiled to herself. She had missed him, far more than she had wanted to admit, either to herself or to him. Or Philip, for that matter.

He had been right, when he said that she still loved Barnabas. She had only half realised it the night before, when she'd learned that the curse was threatening to lay claim to him once more. Despite everything, he still enthralled her heart.

From the direction of the bathroom, she heard a loud crash, and she quickly headed towards the sound, calling out his name. "Barnabas! Barnabas, are you all right!"

She heard a muffled groan, and then a sharp intake of breath, at another spasm of pain. She knocked on the door, "Barnabas, may I come in?" she asked inching the door open slowly. When she received no answer; neither positive nor negative, she poked her head around the door.

He was partly dressed, and rather shakily and painfully slowly, trying to regain his feet. His face, a shade paler, that when she'd left him ten minutes before. A bloody gash stood out vividly above his right eye.

She entered the room, and knelt down beside him. "What happened?" she asked, reaching out to touch the gash gently. He winced, and drew back, then gritted his teeth against another spasm.

"One minute I was standing, next thing I'm on your bathroom floor," he said looking a little dazed.

"Barnabas, you're bleeding."

He reached up, to touch the gash, wincing. He drew his fingers back, and gazed at the bloody tips, with a rapt expression. Julia recognised that look from the old days, when he'd been a vampire, and the urge for blood was upon him.

The rapt expression changed, and a look of revulsion took its place. "Would you mind if I miss dinner?" he asked, trying to regain his feet. "I seem to have lost my appetite."

"You haven't eaten all day," was her comment, "At least try something."

She helped him to his feet, and waited as he held onto the sink, for support. She could feel him shaking, slightly. "I really couldn't Julia. I'm sorry."

She helped him to the kitchen, where she attended to the gash, and then went about preparing her own meal. As she worked, she questioned him about his symptoms once more, taking notes, in between her preparations. He watched her, silently, wondering how she managed to devote so much time and energy to helping him, when she had so much more important things to do.

His inner thoughts were broken by the spasm of pain, and he hissed in a sharp breath. Julia turned, at once concerned. He waved her off, as she came to him, and after a time the pain passed.

Finally, after she had examined him, she took a blood sample, and placed it under the microscope.

The cause of Barnabas' problems was immediately apparent; a war was being raged, between his red and white blood cells. As she watched, they attacked each other, and then began to die off.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Philip knocked on the laboratory door, and then entered, without waiting for an answer. Since Barnabas had left Wyndcliffe three days before, the lab had been the place Julia had spent most of her time. And she had made it quite clear that this time, she wasn't going to forgive him easily, for what he'd erroneously told Barnabas, and had resumed a professional air, between them.

He approached her silently, wondering what she had been working on; knowing only that it had something to do with Barnabas. Resentment rose within him, at the thought of his rival. He still couldn't see what she saw in him. And wondered not for the first time, how long Julia, would carry on deluding herself. Collins had seemed a shallow sort of guy to him, knowing quite well, how Julia felt about him, and using it to his advantage. It seemed Julia could deny him nothing.

The expression on her face, the first night Barnabas had spent the night in her guest room, came back to haunt him. The look of a woman deeply in love, and unusually concerned about his mysterious illness. Why hadn't they been able to awaken him, at a time of day, when he should have been up and around? He bit back the questions that plagued him, knowing that Julia, for now at least, wasn't in the mood for questions, much less giving answers.

"The reports you asked for, Julia," he said, indicating the folders he was carrying. "They just need your authorisation. I've done the first rounds, and everything seems fine."

She looked up from her notes, and took the folders, without comment. She looked through them, tapping her pencil on the worktop as she did so. She was distracted. Finally she looked up again. "I have to leave around mid-afternoon tomorrow. I should return sometime tomorrow night, with a new admittance. I've already done the necessary paperwork, I just need to arrange the room."

"I could do that," he offered immediately. "Who is this new arrival?"

Her expression changed, and he felt the now familiar resentment rise to the surface. "Barnabas," he said, saving her from answering. She stared at him directly. "Yes, Barnabas," she said, firmly. She signed the papers, and then handed them back to him. The gesture was clear; he was being dismissed.

He took the folders, silently, but didn't leave immediately. Julia turned back to her notes, then the microscope. He watched her a few moments, then said, "Julia, I know I overstepped the mark, by telling Barnabas what I did. You're right to be angry - I should have waited, and not presumed that you'd accept. I know Barnabas means a great deal to you. But, I did it because I care; because I love you - and I hoped that there might be a slim chance that it was true. I won't pretend that I like him - I don't. And I believe the feeling is mutual. I don't like him because of what he's done to you in the past, and what he's still doing to you. I wish I could understand what you see in him, even knowing that he...he's blind to how you feel."

She turned to face him once more, a corner of her mouth twitched upwards. "I've asked myself that question, a thousands times, and I still have no answer. I love him, Philip, and that's all I need to know." She turned back to her notes, the look that had passed between them, before Barnabas had left to return to Collinsport, crossed her mind, and a shiver ran down her spine. There had been a glint in his eyes that hadn't been there, for sometime, despite the pain he was still in, and it had made her heart skip. She tried to force the image to the back of her mind, and try and concentrate on the new cure.

When it became clear that there would be no further talk between them, Philip bowed his head slightly, and quietly left the lab, his resentment of Barnabas, growing into hate.

/

Julia approached the Old House, with some trepidation. It had been almost four months since she had had left Collinwood behind. Since she'd left…Barnabas, her mind corrected. Her heart beat that bit faster, as she saw the familiar outline against the darkening sky, and the empty feeling that she hadn't realised existed, was suddenly filled. It felt like coming home.

She paused, taking the time, before entering, to gather her thoughts, and calm her frantic nerves. Curious as to why she should be so nervous. It wasn't as if she had never been here before. Briefly she wondered if he had felt like this, the first time he had visited her at Wyndcliffe, after her departure. Or what it had taken, for him to return, despite Philip's order of staying away. Finally, taking a deep breath, she continued on her way.

Barnabas gripped the sliver head of his cane, and turned to face the window, with an air of impatience. "Where is she?" he asked, his impatience finally given a voice.

Willie paced the living room of the Old House, pausing by the bay window, long enough to twitch the curtain aside, and gaze out. "If she said, she'll be here, she'll be here," replied Willie, once more pacing restlessly.

Barnabas watched him, his hazel eyes, glittering. "You have the note?" he asked sharply.

"Yeah, I have it, Barnabas," answered Willie, irritably. _How many times was he going to ask the same question_? He wondered silently.

A knock on the door, stopped Willie in his tracks, and with a glance in Barnabas' direction, went to answer the door, hoping that it would be Julia Hoffman standing on the stoop.

His relief was evident, even to her, and she couldn't stop the smile that touched her lips, or hide her own relief that she was welcome. Barnabas must have been becoming anxious about her arrival, and the thought brought an unexpected thrill.

"Julia! It's great to see ya again!" smiled Willie, happily, and impulsively hugged her. "Ya look good," he added as he released her.

"Thank you, Willie, and it's nice to see you to."

"It ain't been the same without you," he went on, and then quickly caught himself. A doubtful look crossed his face, wondering if he had gone too far. He looked at her, a sober light in his blue eyes. "He ain't been the same, since you left," he confided.

The statement hung in the air between them, before Willie, remembered that Barnabas was waiting non-too patiently for her. "You'd better come in, he's anxious to see ya."

When she entered the living room, Barnabas was sat in his favourite chair, the cane he invariably carried, planted between his feet, both hands clasped on the silver handle.

"Julia," he greeted, a brief smile touching his pale face, though his eyes sparkled with a delight at seeing her that she hadn't expected. And once more, the look he had given her before he'd left Wyndcliffe, that haunted her dreams, crossed her mind. And she found herself, forgiving him all over again.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Julia returned his smile, her own eyes sparkling. "Sorry I'm a little late, Barnabas," she explained, stepping further into the room. "Elizabeth asked to see me her, and I couldn't refuse..."

"There's no need for you to explain, Julia," he said, "I understand. Though you will forgive me, if I don't stand."

Her face clouded slightly, at once concerned. "How are you feeling?" she asked, the professional once more. "Are you in pain?"

"I must admit that I can feel the changes happening," he replied, with a slight grimace. "The pain is almost constant now." He glanced at her, his gaze steady. "Is it really necessary for you to do this experiment at Wyndcliffe? Can't you do it here?"

Julia shook her head, determinedly. "I'm sorry Barnabas, but that is out of the question. Wyndcliffe is the best place, simply because I have everything I need should anything unexpected happens. If there were an emergency, it wouldn't be practical to be here. Besides, once the treatment actually begins, you must be very closely monitored."

"But you've managed before," he stated, gripping his cane tightly. "And everything you need is still here."

"I must insist on Wyndcliffe Barnabas," she said, authoritatively. "Everything is already prepared for your arrival." She paused and smiled. "Is there a particular reason, why you don't want to go to Wyndcliffe?" she asked, tilting her head to one side, slightly.

He appeared uncomfortable, as he shifted uneasily in his chair. "No, why should there?" he asked, unconvincingly.

Julia shook her head, and sat down in the chair opposite his. "If you're worried about a reaction from Philip, you needn't," she said, voicing his fears for him. The look he gave her convinced her she had guessed his reason, but she carried on, as if she hadn't noticed. "He is aware that he spoke out of turn, and the incident will not be repeated. Besides, Philip will not be involved with any part of the treatment. However," she continued, seeing that he still might argue the issue, "if you show enough improvement, after a suitable time, I may consider, finishing the experiment here."

He relaxed visibly at her words. "Thank you, Julia," he said softly, a curious gleam in his eyes.

She rose quickly to her feet, suddenly feeling awkward under his direct gaze. "We should be starting off, Barnabas. It's a long drive, and I want to run a few last minute tests, before we begin."

Together, her and Willie helped him to his feet. As he straightened to his full height, his face paled, and, he suddenly began to shake. Through he tried to hide his discomfort; she caught the grimace, and patiently waited until the spasm had passed, before heading for the car. 

Julia dispelled the air from the syringe, and then approached Barnabas. It was a little over an hour and a half since their arrival at Wyndcliffe, and the few tests that had been run, were encouraging.

She had begun using the serum she had used when trying to cure him of Jed's curse. But she had quickly discovered that he would need a much bigger dosage than had been required before.

"This is a much more aggressive treatment, than I've tried before, Barnabas," she explained, as she swabbed his arm. "I've made several changes to the serum, as this time, your still human. Because of that, the effects will be quite different than they would be, if you were a vampire. Are you ready?"

He took his time in answering, thinking over what she had said. Finally with a deep sigh, he nodded. "I'm ready, Julia."

She gripped his arm, as she injected the pale green liquid into his veins. His arm began to shake, and clenched his fists, his face turning from white to an alarming red. He gritted his teeth, and held his breath, as pain coursed through him. He uttered a small groan, as the pain seemed to reach its height, and then his face drained of all colour, and a fit of shaking consumed him.

She withdrew the syringe, and stared at him concerned. His expression changed and she knew seconds before he did what was about to happen. She quickly put a bowl in his hands, as he lost the war with the nausea.

She turned away from him, giving him some privacy, as she got him a glass of water, and a towel.

He looked embarrassed as she returned, and handed him the glass of water.

He took it gratefully. "I'm sorry, Julia," he said, quietly. It was obvious that he was still in a little pain, from the injection.

"There's no need to apologise for being ill, Barnabas," she said, gently, watching him carefully. "How do you feel?"

He put the glass to one side, and faced her. "Tired," he said, with a hint of surprise. She nodded. "Then I suggest you try and rest. I'll need to do a test in about," she looked at her watch, "three hours."

He looked weary, his face almost pallid, as he settled back on the bed. She came to him, and placed a hand on his shoulder. Surprised, she felt his forehead, and cheeks. He was hot to the touch, almost feverish. And yet, when she'd touched his shoulder, she could still feel the tremors that shook his body.

She turned to leave, as he's eyelids drooped, but at the last second, he grasped her hand, making her turn back.

"Thank you, Julia," he said, in a low voice, "for everything you're trying to do. I know I don't deserve it...I'll never be able to repay..." his voice trailed off, as exhaustion and the injection finally claimed him, and he drifted over to sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N *** _and italics denote a flashback_

Chapter 13

On leaving Barnabas' room, she turned left and headed towards the common room that the staff invariably used for their breaks. At this time of night, she was the only person there.

She made herself a strong coffee, knowing that it would be a long night, now that Barnabas was a patient. She smiled ruefully to herself; at least Philip wouldn't be able to complain, about her having him installed in her guest room. She sighed, wearily. Deciding that it was none of his business, who she had in her guest room...she allowed her thoughts to wander, and she let the day dream continue for a few moments, before bringing herself, reluctantly to the present and reality. A future with Barnabas would always remain a dream...perhaps she had been too hard on Philip?

She took the letter Willie had given her, from the pocket of her lab coat, and stared at the envelope, a few seconds, recalling the urgency of the young man.

_**"I'm real worried about him, Julia," _he said, stating the obvious_. "He was so sure that he'd stay free of the curse this time."_

_"I'd hoped that much for him, too," _she'd readily agreed_, _**and more**_, _she'd thought wistfully to herself_. "But I mean to help him, all I can."_

Willie had looked at her, perhaps guessing her thoughts._ "When he learned __you'd gone." _he began carefully_, "...he tried every way he could to get_

_Mrs. Stoddard to tell him where ya were."_

_"I've heard all of this from..."_

_"...but what ya don't know is that the whole time he was trying to find ya, he never once mentioned Angelique. It was like, she meant nothin' to him."_

She shook her head, _"When he came here, she was all he talked about. Went over the same arguments we had at the Old House. Only this time he said he had his reasons."_

Willie frowned. _"All I know, is that he ain't been the same since you left. And he ain't been the same, since you started talkin' again." _He'd looked at her, his face suddenly looking boyish. _"Once he's better, Julia...will you come back to Collinwood?" _he asked, hesitantly. _"He'd welcome ya back, I know he would."_

She shook her head. _"I don't know, Willie. That's not a question I can answer right now. We've both said and done too much, for it too be that simple or easy. Once he's well again, we can decide then…" ***_

Her thoughts returned to the present. Re-reading the letter, she focused on one paragraph; _"...will not return to the darkness, if the curse returns, as I am sure it will, eventually, through no reflection on your exquisite talents as a doctor. You have always been my good and dear friend, Julia, and I know my decision will cause you great and profound pain. Should I revert to what I was, Willie has been instructed to end my existence, before the dark of another night. It is not my intention to bring you further pain, but I can not, __will not,__ be that loathsome thing, again..." _

She held the letter to her heart for a few moments, willing the frantic beating of her heart to calm. Tears of frustration welled, at his plight, and hatred of what he had once been, and anger at the woman, he'd called wife, who was responsible for the very existence, he loathed.

Philip walked into Julia's office, a frown on his face. "Julia, why is Barnabas' door locked? I've just done the first rounds of the morning, and when I came to his room, the door wouldn't open."

She looked up from reading a report. "He's sleeping," she said, returning her attention to the report.

"That doesn't really answer the question, Julia," he said pointedly. "How am I supposed to check on him, if the door's, locked? Besides, I'd be careful not to disturb him."

The tone, in which he spoke, made Julia look up again. "I'm sorry Philip, but Barnabas is under my sole care. I am the only one, he will allow to treat him, and I must respect his wishes. Because of his...illness, he's restive during the night, that's why I don't want him disturbed, during the day."

Philip looked intrigued. "What's the matter with him?" he asked, understandably curious.

The careful look that she always got when she discussed Barnabas, crossed her face, and he felt his anger rise. "I can't tell you, I'm sorry."

"I know all about the Hippocratic Oath too! I know all about patient confidentiality! I _am _doctor!" he was angry, and he wanted her to know it.

The guarded look changed to the determined one; he both hated and dreaded. The one she reserved only for Barnabas' defence. "Then you know why I can't discuss his case with you," she said, her bottom lip, stuck out, the way it always did, when she was determined. "It's his wish that only I treat him, and discuss it with no one. Not even you."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" he asked bitterly. "Why doesn't anything about you and Barnabas surprise me? Was he your patient when you were at Collinwood, or is that "Confidential" too?"

Her green eyes flashed angrily. "Don't be flippant, Philip. It doesn't suit you. Why is it so important that you know everything about Barnabas?" she asked tilting her head to one side.

He sighed, and looked down at the carpet. "I don't want to argue with you, Julia," he began, but she cut in. "Then stopping asking so many questions about Barnabas," she said, with a determined air. She signed the report, and then closed it. "I have patients to see, excuse me," she said, and quickly left the office.

He stared after her a few moments longer, anger still burning in his brown eyes. "Very well, Julia. If you won't tell me, then I'll just have to find the answers out myself, won't I?"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

It wasn't until three days later, that Philip got his first chance, to find out what Julia refused to tell him. Realising that he wasn't getting far by taking the offensive, he'd changed his approach, knowing also, that he would have to prove himself, to allay her understandable suspicions. He told himself, that he was doing it for her own good; that he cared about her, too much, to watch her get hurt again, and again, by Barnabas.

When his chance came, it surprised him that it was given to him in part, by Julia, herself, and a patient, with a history of violence.

He'd seen her enter Barnabas' room on the third evening, after their argument, and pocket the keys. He'd just begun his rounds for the night, and knew that she would be there for some time. He turned in the opposite direction, knowing that he would have plenty of time.

/

Barnabas grimaced as the serum entered his bloodstream. Beads of perspiration sprang out on his upper lip and forehead, as he's face turned a deep red, his face crumpled into a grimace of agony. A violent fit of shaking consumed him. He swallowed audibly, screwing his eyes tightly shut, as the pain increased. Colour drained from his face, as she withdrew the needle, and he just had time to reach for the bowl.

Julia walked away from the bed, allowing him the privacy he needed. His reaction at the serum alarmed her. And so far, there seemed to be no change. If anything he seemed to be getting weaker. And the tests that she had run showed that his intolerance to the sun was growing.

She sighed as she turned and saw that he was lying down, his face, white, and washed out, the skin around his eyes, sunken and red, giving him a hollow-eyed appearance. The shaking hadn't stopped, and the fever seemed to be worsening.

"How do you feel?" she asked, walking over to the bed, and sitting down on its edge.

He offered her a bleak smile. "I've felt better," he admitted. "I don't know which is worse; my illness or the cure." He'd meant it as a joke, but he could see that she had taken his words seriously. She rose from the bed, and picked up her notebook, worrying an edge, nervously. "Barnabas, I'm thinking of stopping this form of treatment."

His feverish eyes stared at her, "Why?" he croaked.

She returned to his beside. His breath rasped and rattled in his chest.

"Because of your reaction to the injections. It's been three days, and your reactions are becoming more severe and acute. You're in too much pain..."

"No!" he rasped, hoarsely, grabbing her hand, and staring at her intently. "We will continue, Julia! We must!" he grimaced and turned away from her, releasing her hand, as his hands, balled into fists.

"Barnabas..."

He turned to her, his hazel eyes burning. "Don't you see? What choice do I have? I won't return to the darkness! I won't be a vampire again!" A fit of coughing racked his thin frame. In the days since the treatment had begun, he had lost weight again.

"Barnabas, I don't like seeing you in this much pain," she stated, when the coughing fit ended.

"I'd rather have that, than be as I was!" he rasped, his eyes burning with intensity

A rapid knocking on the door ended the discussion, and then Philip entered, looking completely flustered.

Julia immediately rose from her chair and approached him. "What is it?" she asked, taking in his agitated state.

"Julia, I'm sorry," he gushed, raising his hands, in a placating gesture, "But it's Ethan Bentley. He's asking to see you, and nothing I say or do, seems to make any difference. He's quite agitated..."

She turned to Barnabas, whose pale face was almost indiscernible from the pillow, he rested on. "You must go..." he whispered, hoarsely, his eyes, looked almost like black holes in his too white face, except for the red tint that circled his eyes. It was the first time, Philip had seen him, and he was shocked by what he saw. He looked desperately ill, and for a moment, felt himself waiver, by the body of evidence. He hadn't expected him to be as ill, as he now appeared.

"I'm sorry, Barnabas," she replied going over to him. "I really must go."

"Of course. There are others, besides me, that require your talents," he said, surprising both of them.

She gathered her notebook, and placed it in her lab coat pocket. "I'll be back as soon as I can," she promised, as they both left. Julia paused long enough to lock the door behind her.

/

Later that night when she returned he seemed to be dozing, but he awoke when she approached the bed. He's eyes though feverish, held a gleam, at seeing her.

"I didn't mean to awaken you," she said, as she sat down.

"You didn't," he said, grimacing slightly. "Where you able to resolve whatever was bothering, Mr. Bentley?" he asked, watching her carefully.

"Yes, eventually. How do you feel now?"

"Weak," he looked at her a long moment in silence. "You look tired, Julia," he said, his genuine concern, clear in his voice.

She smiled, a little embarrassed, and looked down from his direct gaze. "I am a little," she admitted. "I'll manage."

"You must rest, Julia," he said, grasping her hand. "I don't want you tiring yourself out, because of me. You have a hospital full of patients that need your time and devotion." His genuine and obvious concern made her pause. "Promise me, you'll get some rest," he went on, as if not noticing the look she'd given him.

"Once I know that you're making a full recovery, then I'll rest," she said, rising to her feet. "I want to run a few tests, if you need me, I'll be in the lab next door."


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

Julia was frustrated. Yet another test showed that the serum she was using on Barnabas, wasn't working. She couldn't understand it; she didn't even know _why_ it was even happening, or what was causing it.

Her neck and shoulders felt stiff, from working on the problem. What had seemed easy, and straightforward, in previous tests, was rapidly becoming a much bigger problem than she had anticipated.

Though he had been against the idea, she realised that another form of treatment would have to be considered.

She rose from the stool, and worked her neck, trying to ease the cramp. She sighed heavily, wondering where she'd gone wrong. Grabbing her notebook, she left the lab and headed towards the common room. She needed a coffee, strong and black, and somewhere a lot more comfortable than her stool.

/

Once seated on the sofa, she glanced over her notes, but her mind drifted to her conversation with Barnabas. It was small, but there was a change in him, just like Willie had said. She couldn't ever recall a time when he ever complimented her, except when she'd been backed into a corner, and forced into helping him, with some plan or other. Angelique was another subject that Willie had mentioned; in the all the time he'd been a patient at Wyndcliffe, Barnabas hadn't mentioned her once. And it definitely wasn't like him to notice how tried she was. The thought of it brought a frown to her face. Once more, Barnabas had succeeded in surprising her.

Two hours later, she was still working on her notes, when Philip entered the common room. He hesitated a moment then walked the rest of the way in.

"I didn't mean to disturb you," he said, helping himself to a coffee.

She leaned her head back, and put down her pencil. "You weren't," she said closing her eyes, briefly. "In fact you're a welcome distraction."

He turned to her, his mug half raised. "Problems?"

"A few," she sighed. He put his mug down and went over to her. Sitting down on the coffee table facing her, he swallowed his pride and said, "Julia...about the fight we had…I only said what I did, because I care about you a great deal. Perhaps too much. It's none of my business about how you feel about Barnabas, or even if he's been a patient of yours before. I shouldn't have let my...jealousy...get in the way or destroy a friendship. I overstepped the mark, let my personal feelings cloud my judgement, and I...I'm sorry."

"And I'm sorry too," she said with a weary smile. "Despite what Barnabas feels or doesn't feel, for me, I'm devoted him, in a way I could never explain to you." She laughed a little, "And, I guess, a little over-protective of him. I know you love me, Philip, and I know that you care, but I only have enough room in my heart for Barnabas. It seems my life began with him, and he'll be where it ends."

He looked down, hands clasped in front of him, he swallowed before he spoke. "Is that your way of saying no?"

"I'm really sorry, Philip."

He sighed, and straightened up. "I guess I always knew that'd be your answer. I thought, that maybe you could learn to love me...but -" he's voice trailed off, and awkward silence hung in the air, for a moment or two. Then with a cheerfulness they both knew to be false, he said, "Well, this isn't getting any work done." And quickly rose to his feet. He turned to leave then stopped. "I'm sorry that I had to come to Barnabas' room, but Bentley insisted that he wanted to see you, and only you. I hope I didn't..."

"It's quite alright, Philip. I understood, and so did Barnabas. But I appreciate what you're trying to say."

"Barnabas means a lot you, I know. That's why I'm offering to help, in anyway I can. I know that you're he's sole carer, but there might be something I can do."

She stared at him a moment, trying to figure out if he were being sincere. Deciding that he was, she smiled, "Thank you, Philip. It means a lot to me." She picked up her notes, and headed towards him. "Well, I have some more work to, so I'll say goodnight."

/

She went out ahead of him, and he watched after her, with a sly smile on his face. After a few seconds he followed after her, and watched her enter the lab. From where he stood, he saw her put the notebook into the second draw of a metal filing cabinet. She locked it, and then after cleaning away the apparatus that she'd been using, headed back in his direction. He ducked out of sight, and waited until she'd entered Barnabas' room once more, before heading towards his own apartment. He'd thought he's visit to Mr. Wonderful, had been a lost cause, and he hadn't learned anything; he'd missed the obvious clue. The notebook held the answers he wanted it was the key to the whole thing. As he walked down the corridor he pondered on a way to get his hands on the notebook, and the keys that opened that filing cabinet.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

When Philip entered Barnabas' room, coffee in one hand, and a plate of sandwiches in the other, Julia was dozing in a chair by Barnabas' bed. The room was in darkness, had it had been the first time he'd entered two days previously.

He glanced at Barnabas, sleeping soundly. It almost looked like he was dead, rather than asleep. His breathing almost non-existent and his colour was paler, than he remembered.

Placing the coffee and plate of food on the beside table, he gently shook Julia. She awoke, slowly, at first, her face showing her weariness.

"Philip?" she asked, at first sleepily, and then sounding more awake, she asked, "What are you doing here?" she glanced at Barnabas, and then back at him, questioning.

He sighed, prepared for her questions. "I saw you come in here, five hours ago. When you didn't come back out for your rounds, I decided to do them

or you then come and check on you. Good job I did. I made you a coffee, and something to eat, and then I find you crashed out. Exhaustion won't help Barnabas, or our other patients, if you're falling asleep, everywhere. Get some rest, Julia," he said, with a persuasive air. "Otherwise, you'll be no good to him," he said, nodding in Barnabas' direction. "I'll sit with him, if he can't be left alone, and I promise to wake you, if he awakens, and wonders where you are."

Julia still looked doubtful. "I'm sure he wouldn't want you running yourself to the point of exhaustion, Julia. Let me help, even if it's just to let you get some rest. You obviously need it."

Again she glanced at Barnabas. He'd urged again, last night, for her to get some rest, and now Philip was doing the same. Perhaps, a rest wouldn't do any harm? But could she trust Philip to awaken her if Barnabas should awaken?

Her glance fell towards the window. It seemed unlikely that he would awaken while it was still daylight, and she could always be back in time for his next blood test, and injection. She turned back to Philip. "You will awaken me, the minute he wakes?" she asked, watching him carefully. Perhaps this rest would help her focus on why everything seemed to spiralling towards failure.

His answer was to gently pull her to her feet, and steer her towards the door. "Scouts Honour, Doctor," he said, opening the door, and guiding her out. "Doctor's orders, now scoot!"

He closed the door, gently, but firmly in her face, and leaned against the door, his heart pounding. He waited, hoping that she wouldn't demand to be allowed in, and when she didn't he heaved a sigh of relief. He headed back to the chair by the bed; his glance falling on the keys she'd left behind.

His heart skipped, and he glanced at the door, hoping that it wouldn't open, with Julia's unexpected return, for the very keys he now held. He glanced at Barnabas; still sleeping far too soundly, and, checking the keys once more headed into the bathroom. He quickly made an impression in the bar of soap, of the keys, and then returned to the room, placing the keys

carefully, where he'd found them. The first part of his plan complete, he settled down to a long, vigil.

/

Barnabas stirred uneasily, as the dream progressed. He felt the fear, long remembered, as she approached him, the curtains billowing. He backed away, from her, his eyes bulging, knowing what would happen, if she touched him.

"Can't you leave me alone!" he begged her, his voice tortured, and terrified, with an undercurrent of something else. Her grin widened, as she neared him, her eyes gleaming with anticipation, and triumph.

"Haven't you done enough to me, tonight?" he wailed, as he found himself, trapped between a chair and the fire. "No!" he pleaded, shaking his head, but she drew closer, deaf to his pleadings. "No!" he said again, and fought against the longing he was already feeling. He would not give in!

"_Noooo_!" he wailed, as Angelique, mouth agape, revealing the fangs, that

had already tasted his blood, once tonight, lunged, gripping his shoulders in a vice grip, lunged viscously for his throat, his wail of protest, turned to a scream of fear and pain.

Deep within his sleeping mind, he realised that this wasn't a dream, but had actually happened, with a cry, he awoke. "Julia!" he gasped, fearfully.

"Bad dreams, Mr. Collins?" asked Philip, from the darkness, startling Barnabas, momentarily at the unexpected voice.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, swallowing down the fear that still gripped him. "Where is Julia?"

Philip snapped on the light, and stared at Barnabas, intently. "Resting," he said, enjoying the uncomfortable look on Barnabas' face. "Don't worry, she'll be back, once I inform her, that you're awake. But before I do that," he's friendly manner swiftly changed, and a cold gleam, glinted in his eyes. "You and I are going to have a little chat."

"What about?" asked Barnabas, distrustfully.

"You and Julia," said Philip, quickly. "And the hold you have over her."

"I have no hold over her," he replied, mystified by were this was leading.

"You know that she loves you, don't you?" questioned Philip, testily.

Barnabas remained silent, for a few minutes, then carefully, he said, "She has never indicated..."

"Are you completely blind!" snapped, Philip, angrily. "It's obvious how she feels about you! And you don't care one..."

"I didn't say I didn't care," responded Barnabas, with a hint of anger.

"...iota, that she's wasting her time, and her life, for a man, who callously plays with her emotions. She deserves much more than that, Collins, and she deserves better than _you_."

"I am more aware of my faults than you, Doctor," said Barnabas darkly, his eyes narrowing. "And so is Julia."

Philip stared at him steadily. "Are you in love with her?" he asked with pointed directness.

Barnabas looked down at the bedclothes, for several minutes, considering his answer. "That is my business," he said, coldly. "And if I chose to discuss it, it will be between Julia and I, not you."

Philip stared at him, astonished. "You are in love with her!" he accused him.

Barnabas gaze was cold. "This conversation is over, Doctor. I will not discuss this any further."

He watched as she made an entry in the notebook, and then turn back to the

microscope, before adding another entry. After several more minutes, she placed the notebook, in the second drawer of the metal filing cabinet, and then flicking off the light, left the lab, and headed in the direction of her apartment.

He waited a few minutes, before stealthily slipping into the lab, and headed straight for the filing cabinet. Using the keys, he had cut from the soap impressions, he took out the notebook, and using the flashlight he'd brought with him, opened the book, and gasped in shocked surprise. He quickly flicked through the book, but each page was blank. Not one word or stroke of lead marked the pristine pages.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Barnabas lay exhausted against the pillows, the red circles around his eyes, stood out vividly against his pale skin. His face glistened, with perspiration, soaking the pillows he rested on, as well as the bed sheets and his pyjamas. His breath rasped and rattled, in his narrow chest.

He shook his head, when Julia offered him a fresh glass of water, closing his eyes, at the brief pain, even that small motion brought.

Julia looked down at the bed, a moment, gathering her thoughts. Barnabas watched her, intently with feverish eyes, and then taking the hand that rested within easy reach of his, give it a quick squeeze.

She offered him a brief smile, before saying, "Further tests have shown no improvements, though you'd know that, from the reaction you've had. Barnabas," she paused and shook her head, and he squeezed her hand again, in encouragement. "Barnabas, I have no choice now, but to stop the injections. If you receive just one more injection, it could be dangerous. The tests that I first ran were encouraging. But now, I believe they're only keeping you as you are now. The only other alternative is one we'd both rather avoid, but it seems, that we may have no choice. I'm sorry, Barnabas."

He stared at her a long moment, before answering. "You mustn't blame yourself, Julia," he said, his tone, gently reprimanding. "I know that you've tried your best, and made many sacrifices for my benefit. I don't blame you, Julia, it's not your fault." He stopped, taking the time to catch his breath, the small effort to talk, sapping his strength. He knew she hated failure, and once more, he noticed the fatigue that marked her features.

Between caring for him, and running a hospital full of patients, she was rapidly, wearing herself down. "And tiring yourself out, isn't going to help me, or you, find the answers that you seek. I want you to rest Julia if not for yourself, then for me. Worrying about me isn't helping."

The bleak smile returned. This new understanding mood of his, mystified her. He'd not always been so considerate of her, and her needs. She decided that she liked the change in him. She squeezed his hand, in return.

"I can't help worrying about you..." abruptly, she stopped, and letting go of his hand quickly rose to her feet, and put some distance between them.

He watched her, his expression veiled, a smile, twitched, nervously, at the corner of his lips, fading before it was fully formed. "What do you plan to do, now that the injections, are suspended?" he wanted to know, pointedly, not commenting on her slip of the tongue.

She turned, feeling small comfort in his insistence they talk shop. "I'm already working on a new vaccine. Though it will be some time, before I can try it. You'll need a few days, to recover, at least a little, from the effects of this one. I have the notes and a few samples in a private filing cabinet in my apartment." She folded her arms, and walked over to him, a more genuine smile on her face, as she looked down at him, with a fond look. "You look tired, yourself. Why don't you try and get some rest, and I'll check back on you, in a few hours?"

She was almost at the door when he called her.

"J-Julia?"

She turned, with a questioning look. His expression changed, and there was tenseness about him. "I know you want some rest, too, but..." he's expression became sheepish, "…will you stay, just a little longer?"

She detected the slight fear that inflected his words, and became concerned. "Dreams?" she asked, and after the briefest hesitation, he nodded, slightly.

"Of course, I'll stay," she said, with a smile, returning to her seat by the bedside. His smile of relief and gratitude, thrilled her, and make her heart beat, that bit faster.

/

It was another three days later, when Philip knocked on the door to Barnabas' room, before quietly entering. As usual, Barnabas was sleeping. Julia looked up, but relaxed on seeing that it was Philip. With a quick glance at Barnabas, she rose from her chair, and met him in the centre of the room.

"Elizabeth has just called," he explained, in whispered tones. "She'd like for you to call her back. I had the impression that it was urgent." He watched her closely. "I can stay with Barnabas, if he can't be left alone," he said in measured tones.

"No, he'll sleep for a few more hours yet. I wonder what Elizabeth could want?"

Philip smiled, "There's only one why to find out."

They left the room together, and as Julia headed towards, her office, he waited a few minutes, and the headed towards her apartment.

/

Slipping into the apartment, he went to the room she used as a study, and began searching the room, for any sign of the notes and evidence of the experiments, he knew she was conducting.

A picture hung on the wall, and he quickly removed it, wondering if it hid a safe of some kind. It didn't.

He's eye fell on the small filing cabinet, and he walked quickly over to it. It wasn't locked. When he'd discovered that the notes she kept in the lab were blank, he'd thought that she had seen through his deception, and had decided to dupe him instead. He'd seen her write in it, a thousand times. Later he'd realised that she'd have other copies, and had already searched her office, and study, without result. That had left the only logical place; her apartment.

He opened the drawer, and found several bottles of a pale greenish liquid.

Curious, he picked them up and examined them. There were several more, of the same shade, and all of them bore the name, "B. Collins."

There seemed to be more vials of the slightly paler liquid, than there were of the pale green. Julia had carefully labelled and dated each of the vials. Somehow, they were important in the treatment of whatever was wrong with Collins. He checked the dates once more, and then on impulse, peeled back the labels of the new vials, to switch with the older ones. This done, he put everything back, they way he had found it, and quickly left the apartment.

/

"Elizabeth called," said Julia, as she set up the vial and syringe, later that night.

"How is Elizabeth?" he wanted to know. She had called several times; during the two weeks he had been a patient. He'd been too ill to speak to her, however.

"Worried about you," she said, coming over to him, with the syringe in hand. "But I assured her that you're in the best hands, and that she had nothing to worry about. She plans to visit soon, to see how you're feeling."

"It will be good to see her again," he admitted, showing a little interest. And Julia felt hope for the future, that in time he would full recovery.

"Well, with this new vaccine that I want to try, you'll be that much better when she does come." She cleansed his arm, and after dispelling the air, injected the serum into his arm.

He gasped, and his face flushed an alarming red, then drained completely.

He grimaced, as fire seemed to grip his entire body, and perspiration, sprang out in large beads on his forehead and cheeks. He shuddered, and gasped, "Something's wrong!"

His breathing became ragged, and he fought for breath, his eyes rolled back until the whites showed, as a convulsion contorted his body.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Panic seized her at his sudden and immediate reaction. He continued to struggle for breath as the convulsion worsened. She sobbed his name in alarm, as she vainly tried to bring the spasms under control. Quickly realising that she couldn't possibly deal with this alone, she pressed the alarm.

Within seconds, two nurses appeared, followed almost immediately by Philip.

He paled, when he saw Barnabas' reaction, hesitating for only a second, before taking control of the situation. He started first by sending the two nurses for an oxygen unit and a few other things he'd need.

He examined Barnabas, closely; his face was grey, and swollen. A gasping sound indicated that he was choking. He quickly pulled the pillows out from under Barnabas' head, and opening his mouth, pulled the swollen tongue forward, preventing it from blocking his throat. At the same time he asked, Julia, "What happened?"

"I was giving him his nightly injection, and then he started convulsing."

"What exactly are you treating him for?"

When she didn't answer he turned to her briefly. "Julia I have to know! It's vitally important! He's in anaphylactic shock, and I need to know what caused it!" He knew of course, but he couldn't admit it to her.

When he'd switched the vials, he hadn't expected this kind of reaction. If he were found out, it would mean the end of his career, and quite possibly a prison sentence. He hated Barnabas, that was true, but not enough to kill him. And as a result of his tampering that was what could still happen.

_Where were those two nurses_? When she still didn't answer, he snapped, "Julia he could die!"

She swallowed, then, "A...recurring blood disorder. I was using a new serum."

The nurses returned and he impatiently grabbed a syringe and vial form one of them. Filling the syringe he ordered the other to set up the oxygen.

He turned to Julia. "I need you to help monitor his vital signs. I'm going to give him epinephrine." He pulled back the covers and quickly administered the drug into Barnabas' thigh.

He timed the reaction on his watch. He shook his head, "He's not responding!" Placing his stethoscope in his ears, he checked the heartbeat, with a frown on his face. The pulse was still weak. "Come on Barnabas!" he said through gritted teeth. "Don't you die on me!"

An examination of his eyes still showed the whites and he was still struggling to breathe. He checked his watch again; five minutes had gone by, without any reaction. He readied the hypodermic again, and then after a brief hesitation, administered the epinephrine again.

Still not satisfied with the results, Philip turned to Julia and said, "There's something I want to try, but I need consent from the next of kin."

Julia faced him, just managing to keep herself together. When Barnabas was in trouble or in pain, she always seemed to turn to jelly, and yet she could face all manner of witches and warlocks and not flinch. "He has no next of kin," she said. "What is it that you plan to do?"

"Julia, right now, I haven't the time to explain anything. Elizabeth's his cousin, isn't she?"

Julia shook her head. "She doesn't even know that he's this ill. He didn't want them to know, and I had to respect his wishes. I'm the only one he trusts enough to..."

"Then you'll have to do it. I'm going to give him adrenaline, directly into his heart."

Her eyes widened. "Are you mad! You'll kill him!" she gasped.

He looked at her seriously, "Julia, I've given him two shots of epinephrine with no reaction! If we wait any longer, he could die! Please, Julia!"

She looked towards the bed where Barnabas was still struggling to breathe, and his skin was beginning to take on a bluish tint. Philip had tried everything that she would have done, had she the equipment already to hand. She nodded her head, slightly.

Quickly he prepared the syringe. Dispelling the air just as quickly; he took a deep breath, and plunged the needle into Barnabas' heart.

The change was immediate. The convulsion stopped, he finally lay still, and his breathing eased, considerably. His thin chest rose and fell rapidly, as Philip checked his vitals. He held his hand, checking the pulse, and seemed satisfied, as colour began to return to his face. Philip looked at his eyes, again, and though they no longer showed white, it was obvious that he was unconscious.

He heaved a sigh of relief. Genuinely grateful that Barnabas would live. What had he been thinking of, changing over the vials? "He's going to be alright," he said, and found that his voice was shaking.

Julia sighed with relief, realising that she'd been holding her breath. If her decision had gone against her...she couldn't bear thinking of it. Her pent-up emotions bubbled to the surface and she could no longer stifle the tears or the sob that escaped her throat.

Philip was at her side immediately, and took her into his arms. "It's alright, Julia," he soothed her, guilt washing over him. "He means a lot to you, I know. And I can't lie, and say it wasn't close...but he will be alright..." he swallowed, as she sobbed against him, the same heart rending sobs, she'd done on their first meeting. He had professed to love her, and wanted to protect her. To show her, that there were other men, besides Barnabas, in the world. He'd hated him, because of his treatment of Julia, now he realised with an irony, that he seemed no different. Barnabas had hurt her, that was true, but he'd hurt her, more. He knew how she felt about him and his actions could be summed up in one word; jealousy. Plain and simple jealousy.

He pulled away from her, and looked down into her tear-streaked face. "He'll need careful monitoring over the next twenty-four hours. I'd recommend a blood test, too. He's unconscious, but right now, that's more a blessing than anything to worry about. It'll give his body time to get over the shock." He looked at her seriously and cupped her face with one hand. "He will be alright," he said again, firmly.

She touched his hand that was on her cheek, and looked at him gratefully. "Thank you, Philip, for all that you've done."

He released her, feeling uncomfortable in her gratitude. "I'm a doctor," he said, awkwardly, "It's what I do." He stuffed his hands into his pockets. A doctor! He was a mockery to the word. What had happened to that oath...first, do no harm? He'd forgotten that one simple fact and now he was going to do everything he could to rectify that slip. "I have rounds," he said still feeling awkward. "But I could stay...if..."

"You've done more than enough," Julia smiled. "I can take things from here."

He nodded and left without argument.

/

Philip entered Ethan Bentley's room, still preoccupied, as he had been for most of his rounds, over Barnabas' drastic reaction.

Ethan, a portly man, paced with an agitated air, didn't pause as Philip entered. The sight of Philip seemed to infuriate him even more, as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"Mr. Bentley," said Philip, with a smile of greeting on his face. "What seems to be the trouble tonight?"

With a cry of rage, Ethan whirled and advanced furiously towards him, somehow, managing to gain a weapon.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

An hour after Philip had begun his rounds; Julia was still in Barnabas' room, when he showed signs of regaining consciousness.

She'd sat in her customary place by his bed, silently watching him, knowing how close she had come to really losing him. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. She'd monitored his vital signs every five minutes, and as an added measure, a heart monitor. He still had the oxygen mask, and his colour seemed better, though the red circles around his eyes still stood out.

She'd been holding his hand, and had begun to doze a little, when he began to stir. Instantly she was awake and alert. "Barnabas?"

He groaned, and screwed his eyes shut tightly. He moved about, restlessly.

"Barnabas, how do you feel?"

He opened his eyes, and the shut them again, instantly, before opening them once more, slowly. He gazed at her, a little dazed, but without the pain, that had been so evident, lately. And his fever had broken. "What happened?" he croaked.

"You had an allergic reaction, to the injections," she explained. "Philip and I, had quite a time, getting you stabilised."

His brows knitted, "Philip?" he croaked.

"He saved your life," she admitted, quietly. "How do you feel now?"

He groaned, and closed his eyes, "Like I'm dying," he muttered, and he felt the pressure of her hand increase on his. Opening his eyes, he turned to face her, his expression relaxing. "I never noticed before," he said, his voice full of wonder. "What beautiful eyes you have," he's voice lowered, as he drifted off again.

Somehow, Ethan managed to get between the door and Philip. He held his hands up in a placating gesture. "Now, Ethan, let's talk about this!"

Ethan's small brown eyes glared furiously at him. "I'm through talking to you! I want Dr. Hoffman!"

"She's busy with a patient, right now," Philip tried to explain, backing away, as Bentley advanced towards him, with the makeshift knife, held out in front of him.

"Liar! You'll do anything to keep her away from me!" and with a speed, Philip hadn't expected, Ethan lunged forward with the knife, catching him in the stomach. He gasped, and clutched at the place he'd been stabbed, blood seeping though his fingers. Somehow he managed to stagger out of the way of another forward thrust of the knife, and push the alarm, that would bring help.

His back to Ethan Bentley, he didn't see him bring his arm down in a wide arc, plunging the knife, into his back.

/

Julia had just prepared another blood sample for testing, when she heard the shrill alarm. A sudden chill, that she couldn't explain, ran through her. Leaving the lab, she headed out to see what the trouble was.

"Where's Dr. Montgomery?" she asked a young doctor, on his way to the emergency.

"I haven't seen him all evening, Doctor," he replied, as she fell in step with him. "Perhaps, he's responding to the alarm?"

She glanced almost automatically at her watch; he should have finished his rounds by now, and reported to her. Why hadn't he? Again, the sudden chill travelled down her spine.

When she entered Ethan Bentley's room, five doctors where attempting to restrain him, while a sixth attempted to sedate him.

Three more doctors, where crowded around a prone form on the floor, but she knew that it was Philip. With a cry of his name, she rushed forward, and knelt down bedside his bloody form.

His face was pale and losing colour fast, as the other doctor's tried vainly to stem the flow of blood.

"What happened?" she asked taking his hand in hers, and taking a quick look at his injuries.

"...stabbed..." he gasped, he beckoned her closer. "...must talk...to...you alone..."

"Have you called for an ambulance?" she asked, the doctor nearest her.

Wyndcliffe wasn't equipped to handle an emergency such as this.

"Yes, we called as soon, as we discovered..."

"Alright, I went everyone out of here, right now."

"But doctor!" stammered the young medic. Julia glowered at him, and he quickly, quietened his protests, and getting quickly to his feet, left the room, along with the others.

"...Julia...Barnabas..."

"He's going to be alright," she soothed him. "He was conscious a few minutes, before the alarm sounded. You saved his life."

Philip, his face whiter, and glistening, shook his head. "...don't understand...my...fault..."

"Shh! You must save your strength..."

"...switched...labels..."

Her face registered her shock. "What?" she asked half in disbelief and half in alarm.

"...found...the vials...switched them...wanted to...loved you...deserved better...than him...didn't mean...I was...wrong...he...loves you...I'm...sorry..." he sighed, his chest rose and fell laboriously, and then stilled.

"Philip!" she cried, giving him a slight shake, tears spilling down her cheeks. But, she knew it was too late. Philip was dead.


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

In the days following Philip's death, Julia found herself, unable to devote as much time to Barnabas, as she would have liked. The police had been called in, and Ethan Bentley had been taken into custody, though it was with a silent understanding, that he would unlikely stand trial.

On the times that she could visit Barnabas, he seemed better, though it would be sometime, before he would fully recover. He still slept for most of the day, but it wasn't the death-like sleep that she'd come to dread.

Four days later, after yet another police visit and interview, she found herself, faced with the first free hour in days. She still felt a sense of shock over his dying words. That he would actually interfere with patients' treatment...he was a doctor! _Had been_, echoed in her mind. She'd trusted him, and he'd betrayed her in the worst possible way. She hadn't mentioned it, to the police; for one it couldn't proven, and for another, he'd literally saved Barnabas' life she couldn't forget that...and she'd felt that he's remorse had been genuine.

Knowing that it could no longer be put off, she began going through his desk, for any personal items that she could return to his family when she attended the funeral in Boston. Among the personal effects, she found a letter, addressed to her, in his distinctive writing. Opening it, she found a notice of resignation, as well as a personal letter to her.

The paper shook slightly, as she read the letter, and a lone tear slowly traced it's way down her cheek.

/

Mid afternoon, she made her first visit of the day to Barnabas, and found him awake, and looking slightly bored.

Despite the feeling of sadness that surrounded her, she couldn't hide the surprise at seeing him awake, so early in the afternoon. She went to his bedside and he immediately took her hand in his. She looked at him curiously; it was warm.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, at once the doctor.

"Much better," he readily admitted. He looked at her a little sheepish. "A little food wouldn't go amiss."

She patted his hand encouragingly. "I'll see that you're brought something. You're looking much better, and with your appetite returning, you'll be on your feet in no time. I'll come by later, and run a few tests." She placed a hand against his forehead – it was cool.

She let her hand drop, looked down at the bed covers. Barnabas watched her closely, knowing what she must be thinking about. "Julia," he said softly.

She took her time in looking at him. "How are you coping?" His hazel eyes regarded her solemnly.

She nodded, averting her eyes, from the understanding gaze. "I'll be alright," she said, rising to her feet. "I have a few things to finalise, before the funeral."

"You plan to attend?"

"I feel that I should. Besides, I have to appear before the Medical Board, the day after."

He looked alarmed. "Medical Board?" he asked in surprise. "Why?"

"Internal Investigation. It's...usual practice, for this...this...sort of thing." She quickly made her excuses, and left. Barnabas stared after her, with an air of concern.

/

A week later, Barnabas' health had improved considerably. A number of tests had revealed that the mysterious illness, that had taken him almost to the brink, had just as mysteriously been cured.

Going over notes, in her apartment, the night before her and Barnabas planned to travel to Boston, she began to suspect that what Philip had done in a fit of jealousy, might have just, inadvertently helped to cure him.

The anaphylactic shock had certainly done something. Something positive, judging from the tests, she'd run since then.

The rain had fallen steadily, during the graveside service, and when it was over, Barnabas gently took her hand in his, and given it a reassuring squeeze. She offered him a reassuring look, despite the continued feeling that his insistence on accompanying her, was unwise, largely due to the fact that he was still not fully recovered, despite how much he might think, and his tolerance to the daylight was still fairly limited.

As they moved slowly towards the car, a couple moved towards them, as they drew closer, Julia recognised, Greg Montgomery, Philip's younger brother.

"Thank you, for coming, Julia!" he said, warmly, moving close to kiss her cheek in greeting. "Philip spoke so highly of you. You remember, Caitlin, my daughter?"

Julia looked to the younger woman, who appeared to be in her late twenties to early thirties. "Doctor Hoffman," she said, with a brief nod of her head, as her eyes travelled to Barnabas, with an interested glance.

Julia felt herself bristle, and glanced at Barnabas, who seemed uncharacteristically unmoved by the presence of the young woman.

"This is a close friend of mine, Barnabas Collins," she said for their benefit. Greg shook hands, firmly. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Collins. A sad business."

"Very," said Barnabas looking slightly uncomfortable. "Miss Montgomery."

She raised her hand, and he took it politely. "My pleasure, I'm sure," she said, with an appraising look. Which quickly turned to concern. "Are you feeling alright, Mr. Collins? You look dreadfully pale."

Julia turned to him, concerned. "Barnabas?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm.

Looking embarrassed, he said, "I do feel a trifle weary. Please forgive me. My condolences, Mr. Montgomery, Miss Montgomery." He turned to Julia; "I'll wait by the car."

They reluctantly parted. Though to any casual observer it would have seemed a cool goodbye, their subtle body language and eye contact spoke volumes to those who best knew the two.

Caitlin watched after him, "What a intriguing man he is!"

Julia gave her a writhing look, and forced herself, to be genial, as she said, "He's not long recovered from a long illness. I'm afraid that he may have pushed himself too hard today."

/

By the time she'd reached the car, the rain was beginning to ease a little.

Rather, than wait in the car, Barnabas had decided to wait outside.

She hurried to catch up with him. "You should have waited in the car," she admonished him gently.

"I'm fine," he said watching her intently. "Julia, are you alright?"

She nodded, and then turned from him abruptly.

He grabbed her hand, and pulled her gently towards him. She resisted. "You can grieve, Julia. He was your friend. Let it go," he said, gently, pulling her towards him again. "I'm here for you, Julia."

This time she turned to him, and his arms circled her, as she rested her head on his chest, as the tears finally came. His arms tightened around her, pressing her tightly to him. A hand caressed her back, "It's alright, Julia," he soothed, his hand moving slowly across her back. "It'll be alright," he whispered.

/

As soon as he entered his hotel room, he knew something was wrong. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck begin to prickle as he felt the presence invade the room.

He thought of calling to Julia, in the adjoining room, but thought better of it. The chill of the inclement day had chilled them both. Memory of his dreams left a horrible taste in his mouth, as he slowly backed towards the door.

"Hello!" a voice he knew well squeaked.

He stared with disbelief as the small figure slowly detached itself from the shadows caused by the overcast, miserable day.

"S-Sarah?" he asked, still stunned by her appearance. The urge to cross to her was almost too much to resist, but he did, remembering all too well that first and last time, she had appeared to him.

She moved closer, her long brown hair, swaying as she did so. Her pert face, showing disappointment. "Aren't you glad to see me?" she asked, staring up at him, her brown eyes large.

He swallowed and twisted his onyx ring nervously. "Of course I am, Sarah, it's just..."

She smiled, showing perfect white teeth. "The wicked are punished, but the good are rewarded. That's why I came back!"

He took a step forward, and relief flooded though him as she took a step closer to him. He knelt down, and stared at her in wonder. "Y-you're not afraid of me?"

She shook her head. "Why should I?" she asked brightly, and coming the rest of the way, hugged him.

She pulled back from him, suddenly serious. "The past is forgotten, the past is forgiven, Barnabas. You must tell her."

He looked at her puzzled. "Tell who, Sarah? Tell her what?"

"You know," she insisted. "You have to tell her the truth, no matter what."

He rose to his feet, and crossed over to the window, head bowed. "I can't, Sarah," he said hoarsely.

"But you have to! She has to know! You love her, don't you?"

He turned to her alarmed. "Sarah, I..."

"The past is forgotten, Barnabas. The past is forgiven," she repeated. "You have to tell her, Barnabas."

"I can't, it's not the right time..."

"Let it go, and the time will never be right." She said fading slowly from sight.

Barnabas looked wildly about the room. "Sarah, don't go! Please!" he begged. "Sarah, come back!"

"You'll see me again," her disembodied voice promised. "When you tell her, tell her, tell her, tell her..."

"Let me see you now!" he beseeched the empty room, but she didn't re-appear and nor did she answer. "Sarah!" he begged once more, before covering his face with his hands, and sinking slowly to the bed.


	21. Chapter 21

Conclusion

_Tell her that you love her_

_Tell her that you need her_

_Tell her that you want her to stay_

_Reassure her with a kiss_

_She may never know unless you_

_Show her what your feeling_

_Tell her you're believing_

_Even though it's hard to say_

_'Cause she needs to know you're thinking of her_

_So open up and tell her that you love her_

"Tell Her" Lone Star

Julia watched as Barnabas pushed his food aimlessly around his plate. She watched him, cautiously, wondering if his seeming lack of appetite and subdued mood, could be an early sign of his illness returning.

She'd been called back to Boston, a week later, to another hearing by the Medical

Board, as they returned their verdict, on their own investigation, into Philip's death. And once more, Barnabas had insisted on accompanying her.

During the past week, he had yet to mention returning to Collinsport, and the Old House. She thought he would insist on returning almost the second he deemed himself well enough; but he hadn't. And he continued to consider her and her wants, rather than his own. She had to admit she liked this side of him, and was grateful that he was here with her now.

As they'd had a few hours to fill, before the return flight to Bangor, they had decided to take in the sights, which had led to them having a light lunch. She continued to watch him her concern growing, yet knowing that if she voiced her concerns, he'd insist he was fine, and then continue to brood about whatever was on his mind.

/

They were seated on the sofa in her apartment, later that evening. After returning to from Boston, Barnabas had retreated to his room, saying that he was feeling a little weary. Despite his returning good health, he still tired easily.

When she'd checked on him several hours later, she found him making a phone call, and overhearing Willie's name, decided that he was finally making preparations to return to Collinsport after all, and felt a little disappointed that he hadn't mentioned it to her. He'd also stopped asking her to return with him. With a sigh, she'd casually asked him if he'd like to have dinner with her, that evening. He'd accepted immediately, neglecting to mention his planned departure.

Now, the conversation lagged, and Barnabas became subdued. Julia noticed the preoccupied expression from earlier in the day. He looked down at his hands, and then rose quickly to his feet.

Julia knew better than to question him, when he was in this kind of mood. It was far better to let him take his time. Rushing or pushing him, was a gesture of futility.

He stood with his back to her, staring out into the darkness that he had so recently escaped.

Julia waited patiently on the sofa, quietly watching him, while he gathered his thoughts.

"It wasn't my intention to hurt you, Julia," he said at length, still with his back towards her. "And I'm deeply, deeply, sorry." He turned to face her, his expression one of great sorrow and regret. He struggled to find the right words, and unable to meet her gaze, he looked down at onyx ring, twisting it nervously. "Nor was it my intention, to...to drive you from Collinwood."

He turned back to the window; head bowed, his shoulder sagging, as if under a great weight. He took his time, choosing his words, with great care. "I know saying that it was Angelique I loved hurt you very, very deeply, and I'm so very sorry for that, too." He paused, nervously, keeping his back to her.

"Barnabas," she began, but he turned to face her, glancing at her quickly, clearly upset. "Please, let me finish," he said quietly. She grew silent, knowing that if he didn't say what he wanted, he never would.

He swallowed again, his dry throat clicking. He started to say something, then stopped, not liking the way it sounded in his head. Sarah's words, echoed in his mind, promising to return, if he did what seemed so impossible. He'd done so much to hurt her, in the past, had even used the fact she loved him to his own advantage.

He took a breath, and heard himself say, "I tried so hard, not to love you, Julia," he risked looking at her, and almost smiled at her astonished expression, but forced himself, to continue. "But it was a fight, I could never win." He turned away again, the courage to face her suddenly gone. "I could never understand how you could love me, as I was, what I'd done...I couldn't love myself, so why should anyone else? I was...extremely cruel...when I realised that you truly loved me, not just out of pity. I-I-I pushed you away, cruelly; I didn't believe I deserved to be loved. I was loathsome...I was evil. And I'm sorry for that, too."

He moved away from the window, but didn't come to any closer to her. She sat listening in silence, her heart pounding.

"When I realised that you could love me, even then, it frightened me. When I realised that I was falling in love with you, I knew I had to fight it, because of what I was...if I allowed myself, to love you, because of the very nature of the vampire, you would be placed in even greater danger…so I tried to turn you away from me, in other ways...Then in 1840, when Roxanne almost succeeded in destroying you, I knew I couldn't hide it anymore, and that I had to act."

He stopped again, gathering his thoughts. He took another deep breath, and somehow managed to look at her. "I never wanted to hurt you, Julia. But to convince Angelique that I loved her, I had to convince _you_," he said, quickly. "And it was that decision, that finally drove you away. I thought, by convincing her, I loved her; she'd leave my family and I alone, if her spirit still shadowed Collinwood. She'd leave me alone, to be with the woman I truly love!" he spoke quickly, a passion filling his words. He took a step closer to her, but still held his distance, not knowing what her reaction would be. "I know you have every reason, to doubt everything that I've said. I love you, Julia, and can't face one more day without you." He stared at her, wearing his heart on his sleeve. Then delving into his jacket pocket, he pulled out the music box that he'd given to his other "loves". "I want you to have this," he said, placing it on a nearby table.

She rose to her feet, her back to him, cupping her elbow with one hand, and biting the nails of the other. She wanted to believe him, but the hurt, despite his reasoning, still remained, though to a lesser degree than it had. While he'd been ill, she'd pushed it to one side, focusing all her energies on finding a cure. Once more, it had been someone else who'd found the cure...though it had cost him his own life, and little of the respect she'd once had for him.

She stared at the music box, and then at him. He stood facing her, his heart sinking, as he read the expression in her eyes. His voice caught slightly, as he said; "I'm too late." He looked down at his hands, wishing the floor would open up and swallow him whole. He remained where he was, for five minutes, then in a choked voice said, "Excuse me," he said, turning to leave.

She stared at the music box, wondering if she should be flattered or furious. She thought of all the other "women" he had "loved", and as a token had received this same music box, beginning first with Josette, then Vicki, Maggie, Lady Kitty, though she hadn't witnessed it, she thought she knew him well enough, that it was more than a probability, since she was the reincarnation of Josette. She tried to think if he'd ever given it to Roxanne, and couldn't quite decide. One thing she knew was that Angelique had never been made a gift of it, and for that she was grateful.

Her eyes widened suddenly as another thought came to her, and she turned and called him, without pausing. Of all the women, that had received this, she was the first he hadn't wanted as Josette. He loved her, and her alone.

"Wait," she said, and he stopped his back to her, head bowed. He sensed her approach him. "Barnabas, look at me," she said quietly.

He sighed, and with another deep breath, turned slowly to face her, a spark of hope in his eyes, though his expression said differently.

"Thank you, for the music box, but you have to understand, that giving it to me, doesn't makes everything alright between us. There are still things between us that have to be resolved."

He came to her, the hope in his eyes, lighting his face; at least he had a chance, and he wasn't about to waste. "Julia, I'll do anything, no matter what it takes, to show you, that your faith me hasn't been in vain."

Them moving closer, his hand touched her cheek gently. "You mean the world to me, Julia. Of all the women I've ever loved, you are the only one, I can't truly do without."

Hesitating only a moment, he lowered his head, his lips finding hers. Finding no resistance, the kiss grew bolder. His arms tightened around her, as hers, travelled up his chest to rest on his shoulders, and then met behind his neck. As the kiss deepened, she felt the hope of a future with Barnabas, burn more brightly in her heart.


End file.
